Back from Southwest Asia
By
John Ring
Where
do you start?
Where
does it begin?
How
do you describe the efforts taken over a 6-month period that resulted in
meeting and working with hundreds of people from different cultures in a
foreign country that you had never met before that in the end, resulted in
supporting combat operations that killed over 400 insurgents and capturing 500
more?
Forget
the politics of this. You carry out orders, regardless of if you are in the
Army, Marines, Air Force or Navy. Some more joyfully than others. ÒWe hear you,
we find you, we listen to you, we send fighters to kill you, ha ha ha,Ó said
the head maintenance guru of U2 aircraft assigned to Southwest Asia. He looked
to be Chinese but he is the worldwide expert on these aging aircraft that soar
to 70,000-plus feet in the air for reconnaissance missions. ÒWe find you,Ó he
reiterated, Òand then we bomb you.Ó
ÒHa
ha ha.Ó
He
was obviously a man who enjoyed his work. He was also one sharp individual that
knew the U2 aircraft inside and out. He gave us a 45-minute class on this
aircraft, most of us had never even seen before.
We
needed the class because we were firefighters. There were 47 of us on the Fire
Department at Al Dhafra Air Base. That was ironic in itself because the
Galesburg Fire Department totals 48. As the Fire Chief there, I didnÕt have to
worry about railroad tracks impeding response times or a budget (I spent a lot
of government money while I was there) but instead I had to deal with a bad water supply system on the
flightline, no water system at all in the POL (fuel farm) area, poor building
construction, an area saturated with high heat and high winds, little or no
communication with the Host Nation firefighters, molding 7 firefighting teams
from 7 bases into one working department, inheriting a storage area more
resembling a junkyard, taking over from a fire chief who bolted in the middle
of the night and providing fire protection for the air mission and over 1700
airman and officers on the base.
The
second time I met with my boss, a Lieutenant Colonel, he ended our meeting with
this gem. ÒIÕm watching you,Ó he said, Òand IÕm watching your Fire Department.Ó
The Fire Department
My
boss was watching 47 guys coming together for the first time. No females, which
was a good thing (sorry you feminists out there but itÕs the truth.) I knew
none of them, which was a good thing. We were rank heavy, another good thing.
The Fire Department I inherited was comprised of three Stations--- Station 1,
the main station by the flightline; Station 2, the structural station comprised
of 5 firefighters; and Station 3, a small two-man station on the remote side of
the far runway. It was placed there to insure response times of under four
minutes anywhere on the runway and ramp.
Station
2 was long neglected and an afterthought. It wasnÕt for me because my
background was primarily structural with the Galesburg Fire Department. I
lucked out in putting two guys in charge who were from Scott AFB in Illinois—Mark
Cornell and Mike Nicklow. I laid out what we expected from them and how
important they were. They bought into the entire program. They reconfigured
their hose load to insure a quick, rapid fire attack, junking the Òhigh-riseÓ
pack in place. I wanted water on the fire within 90 seconds of their truck
arriving on the scene, in any building, on any floor, in any area. Their
respective crews were young, aggressive fire-eaters who molded into great
teams. Station 2 turned out to be a low-maintenance area for me. It was the
best of our best.
Station
3 was a Òpunishment houseÓ when I arrived which meant that the so-called perceived
bad boys were sent there to rot. This was similar to the Brooks Street station
in Galesburg. We changed the culture at Station 3; we scheduled it into two-week
rotations, assigned additional responsibilities for them to do, gave them ownership
of the structural trainer by their station and I made each Assistant Chief make
daily trips out to Tranquility Base—so-named by me because it looked like
lunar landscape out there, the old stomping ground of Neil and Buzz in July
1969.
I
was supposed to have had a three-day transition with the previous Chief. It
never happened. He was in a hurry to get home. Between that and disciplinary
problems he was having with his guys, I was lucky to get a full day. Put it
this way—we landed at 3 in the morning, I got to my room at 6 and I was
at work at 7. Fortunately for me, he left early. He complained to me about one
of the guys stealing a towel of his but he forgot to talk to me about the poor
state of the water supply, the 18 out of service flightline fire extinguishers,
the lack of tracking any fire extinguishers on base and the inability of his
fire inspector to actually conduct inspections. I had to deal with a few of his
malcontents for a week and had a mini-revolt among the Airmans Union over when
their last duty day would be but we got them out of the way and went to work.
By
the time they left, I understood why my boss said he was watching us.
I
didnÕt blame him.
The FDNY Connection
Four
months is a long time to stay focused on a deployment. Just getting the
department on track took care of the first four weeks. But I knew that I would
have to create some things to make the time go by fast. Some were automatically
built in--- an ÒIron FalconÓ exercise involving aircraft from seven different
countries that generated over 700 sorties, base competitions which the Fire
Department dominated, incidents in and around the area which altered the
mission of the base but one of the things we wanted to do as a staff was remind
our guys why we were here in the first place.
I
went to New York City in October of 2001 along with two other Galesburg
firefighters, Mike Whitson and Terry Woolsey. We became close to the
firefighters at Ladder 4/ Engine 54. 11 of them responded to the World Trade
Center that day and only four survived. My first day on the job at Al Dhafra, I
spoke to each shift at each station. I told them who I was and where I had
worked. The experience I had at Galesburg gave me instant credibility withy the
guys; though none of them had heard of Galesburg, I told them the Department
makeup and we were heavy on structural and medical calls. I closed with our
experience in New York City, what we saw, what we learned and what we
experienced. Looking at their reaction while I spoke, I could see the young
guys were buying into it. The mid-level NCOÕs looked pretty supportive. The
Deputy Chief, a MSgt David Moreno, was the most loyal, supportive person I
could want. But the other senior NCOÕs had blank looks on their faces.
Of
the 47 firefighters, 46 of them--- all of them--- were active duty. I was the
only one in the Air National Guard.
Like
my boss, the three of them werenÕt quite sure what kind of hand they got dealt
with me.
But
I went ahead with a plan anyway. April 12, 2008 would be the 6-year anniversary
of the recovery of the remains of the firefighters who died from Ladder
4/Engine 54. I put together a ceremony to pay tribute to them and also
redesignate our Engine 10 to Engine 54. I contacted FDNY, sent a letter, asked
for support and they came through big time. They sent FDNY hats, badges and a
letter from their Fire Chief. I asked for volunteers to help out with the
ceremony and 24 firefighters answered the call.
It
came off without a hitch. I couldnÕt get a bagpiper (we had to use taped music)
but I got everything else and we conducted it at the Circle of Honor which paid
tribute to all the victims of the attacks on September 11th. It
lasted 30 minutes and I was ordered to invite the entire Base after I got permission
to do it. They had never seen anything like it. It was rich in fire service
tradition and it was there that our Commander presented the FDNY hats to the
guys who worked at Station 2.
On Generals in General
Before
this deployment, I had spoken with a General one time in my life. That was just
in passing. Not at Al Dhafra.
I
gave briefings to three different Generals, including the head ramrod of CentAf
(Central Air Force that includes Afghanistan, Iraq, Kurkistan, Kuwait, United
Arab Emirates, East Africa, Turkey and Iran). The thing that impressed me about
these guys was their capacity to know a lot about everything. They could do a
60 minute brief covering numerous topics without notes and not miss a beat. And
when they wanted information, they wanted it spelled out simply and accurately.
I was asked what percentage of smoke detectors had been cleaned at the base in
the hopes of reducing the number of false alarms that are triggered because of
the environment we were in. We had actually replaced 150 smoke detectors with
heat detectors (in non-sleeping quarters) and reduced it by 48% within three
months. But I didnÕt have that information. ÒI donÕt have the exact number sir,Ó
I rallied, Òbut itÕs been a good chunk of them.Ó He didnÕt like that answer at
all but he was in a good mood that day.
Your Tax Dollars At Work
ÒMoney
is no object,Ó I was told my first day on the job. I took that to heart, I
spent more in my first week at Al Dhafra than I have in two years with the 183rd
FW in Springfield. In the end, my total came to about $200,000. Nearly all of
it was on equipment we lacked or equipment that we needed to test to meet
National Fire Protection Association standards. The rest of it was to upgrade
our living conditions at the fire stations. We saved lots of money by doing the
labor ourselves--- called, ÒSelf HelpÓ projects. Painting, drywalling, laying
carpet, all sorts of jobs.
Our
firefighting vehicles were in a sad state of disrepair when we got there. But
again I got lucky—the fire department mechanic assigned to us by the
Motor Pool was the finest one I have worked with in 26 years. On a typical day
he would be wearing his desert overalls, grease up to his neck and a big smile
on his face, He reminded me of Goober (Andy Griffith) without the beanie hat.
Our vehicle capability for the 122 days I was there was a staggering 98%
in-service. Amazing. I recommended him for an achievement medal, something I
rarely do, bit in this case he deserved it.
Part
II
The Army
Working
at an Air Base in Southwest Asia means you work with a lot of different folks
from different Nations. Al Dhafra was no different.
The
British wanted to always get drunk. The Germans were all business. ÒWe have a
bad history,Ó a German Luftwaffe pilot said to me during a long conversation.
When I mentioned that our own Air Force had a history of fire bombing civilians
in Dresden and Tokyo, he just shook his head. ÒIf we could have done that to
your cities,Ó he said, Òwe would have. We have a bad history.Ó
125
Army soldiers came on our base to install Patriot missiles. Most of our young
firefighters didnÕt even know what they were—those missiles came on-line
during the first Gulf War when most of them were three or four years old. They
installed the missiles out by Tranquility Base (Fire Station 3) and the
activity out there stepped up.
I
was concerned about medical calls and accidents at the site so I had our lead
emergency medical technicians inventory and update the equipment at Station 3.
I also had our guys at Station 3 monitor all of the activity to insure our
access points to the runway were unobstructed. I up channeled this information
but was told to back off because the Army guys were already medically trained.
I paid a visit out there and found a ÒmedicÓ standing by their ambulance. He
was actually a truck driver who had some combat medical training. I asked to
look at his equipment and he pulled out a first aid box that Hawkeye Pierce
might have used in Korea. It had a
lot of tourniquets and bandages but no airway equipment, oxygen or other things
a first responder would need.
The
next week we responded for a call at their site for a major head injury. Our
guys stabilized the patient, did reassessments and transported him to the
clinic. While this soldier had a serious wound, he lived. Our three
firefighters who responded were recognized by the CentAf Commander, a
three-star General at Station 1. As he did, I stood in the background with the
other guys and applauded. Great, great satisfaction.
And
we never backed off.
Ray Rangel
A
few weeks after the war began in 2003, SSgt Ray Rangel died in the line of duty
at Balad Air Base. Rangel was a firefighter stationed at Dyess Air Force Base
in Abiline, Texas. He responded on a call of an overturned Hum-Vee that was in
a canal. He drowned while attempting to rescue one of the three soldiers that
also died. Two of our firefighters at the base knew Rangel, his wife and his
family.
When
we arrived at Al Dhafra, the entranceway at Station 1 was decorated with a
couple of Òstory boardsÓ of the accomplishments of the last firefighter
rotation. Throwing those in the dumpster was one of the first things I did. We
converted this to into a memorial for Rangel, complete with turnout gear, photos,
the firefighters prayer and the American flag. The centerpiece was a framed
statement of who Ray Rangel was and what he did. Underneath that were quotes
from Martin Luther King and Vince Lombardi. (Rangel was an ex-football star and
a youth football coach)
We
also established the Ray Rangel Award, given to an NCO and an airman for
outstanding achievement and dedication for the rotation.
When
my replacement came in, I asked him for just two favors--- to continue the
Rangel Award and foster the strong ties that Station 2 has with Ladder 4/Engine
54 in New York City. He promised to do that but IÕm not holding my breath.
Firefighters of another culture
Regardless
of where you are at in SW Asia, the ÒHost NationÓ firefighters look upon the US
Air Force and their firefighters as what they aspire to be because we are the
best. It doesnÕt matter if it is Iraq, Kuwait, Kurkistan or the United Arab
Emirates. At Al Dhafra, the relationship was non-existent at best. My boss kept
after me to work on it. He was relentless on getting me to get this to succeed.
For two months, I hit one roadblock after another. I tried everything. Sports,
firefighting tradition, just about every possible avenue I could think of.
Nothing worked.
Then
I hit a breakthrough. The time needed to invest in this I didnÕt have. And time
is what was needed to gain their trust. Whenever you would visit these guys,
you couldnÕt just set up training and leave. ThatÕs considered rude. You need
to sit and bullshit and drink about six or seven cups of hot tea. Several of
them dreamed of going to America, they wanted to see the California beaches. So
I sent two of the guys at Station 3, one of whom was from California. They
loved the guy. His last name is Reuben but they called him ÒRubinskiÓ because he
looked Russian to them. Before long, Rubinski and his crew were having lunch
with them, dinner with them, doing PT with them and we started training with
them. I would bring a translator over for the training and everything clicked.
With no training at all, I responded our water tanker (a resupply vehicle) and
had them tie in to one of their trucks while it was pumping water. Our guy was
pumping water to them within 90 seconds of his vehicle coming to a stop. They
did the same to our truck. We quickly established four classes (one per month),
did weekly PT with them and then we invited them to our daily roll call
formation. I invited a photographer, the base newspaper, the translator and our
Commander.
I
spoke some Arabic during this formation--- simple things like Òone base, one
teamÓ and Òone fire house, one brotherhoodÓ We presented them fire protection badges and a plaque in
Arabic.
One
of the biggest mistakes I made during this deployment was not learning Arabic
quickly. The second mistake I made was not having Station 3 working with these
guys from the start.
I
took one of their crews to our Circle of Honor, which memorializes the victims
of September 11, 2001; The translator with us looked a little worried about it.
But I gave them the nickel tour like anybody else. When it finished, one of
them said through the translator, ÒIÕm very sorry for bad people in our faith.
I hope you are not upset with us.Ó My reply was ÒNo one wearing this uniform
will ever treat you badly because of what happened. This is an honorable
country with honorable people.Ó Osmond (our translator, who is from the Sudan)
said to me he had never witnessed anything like it. I took it as a compliment.
By
the time I left, we were actually functioning as one team. Essa Mohammed, one of
the Host Nation firefighters, called me ÒNumber One. You number one. Bush
number two.Ó
It
wasnÕt me—it was Rubinski and my boss for kicking me in the butt to get
it done.
USO Shows
Like
many of you, IÕd heard about USO shows from World War II and Vietnam. I
actually got to see a few of them while I was deployed. The ones I saw were
pretty mediocre. From what I heard, the most popular ones are (1) Athletes.
They donÕt perform or sing but the guys love to mingle with them, take pictures
with them and talk. (2) Comedians. Robin Williams is the most sought after. (3)
NFL Cheerleaders. The team represented is irrelevant. They had an event called ÒAl
Dhafra Got TalentÓ. Out of 1700 people, you would think there would be some.
That wasnÕt the case. A couple of the singers werenÕt bad, there was also a
juggler and a ventriloquist. The ventriloquist got my vote. Naturally, he lost.
Getting in trouble
For
the record, I had a total of three ass-chewings for the 122 days I was there.
They were comparatively mild, on a scale of 1 to 10. The ones I got at the
Galesburg Fire Department were a lot worse. Of the three I got, one of them was
well-deserved and the other two were as a result of something done by one of
our firefighters on the basketball court, of all places.
The
strange thing was for a base in Southwest Asia, it was more like being
stateside in several respects. I got nasty calls and emails from my superiors
about some of our guysÕ sideburns, throwing cigarette butts in the wrong places
and one of our guys had a toothpick in his mouth outside the Base Exchange.
One
afternoon, a Chief Master Sergeant barged in my office dragging one of our
young firefighters in with him. I was meeting with the Deputy Chief on
scheduling the annual hose testing that was due. The young guy was Senior
Airman Michael Snyder--- originally an orphan in Korea, he was adopted by a
couple in Kansas City and grew up in Missouri. His crime was he had chewing
tobacco in his mouth but he wasnÕt in the smoke pit. Those who know me well knew what I wanted to say--- but I
was outranked. Besides that, I had clashed with this Chief before over a major
fuel spill on the flightline with near zero visibility, a Òhot zoneÓ that was
initially impossible to manage because of the fog and combat sorties cranking
up adjacent to our emergency aircraft.
I
promised him Snyder wouldnÕt perpetrate such an outrage again. It was then
Snyder who re-supplied the HN vehicle with no notice training, it was Snyder
who successfully completed several academic courses and later it was Snyder I
recognized at a roll call formation.
The Military and the Private Sector
When
it comes to fire prevention, the military is far ahead of civilian departments.
They have a big advantage simply because any hazard or deficiency has to be
fixed. And if it isnÕt fixed immediately, it is at least identified until it
can be corrected.
But
one other thing IÕm most proud of is this--- we had a very ethnic fire
department, something that didnÕt hit me until well into the deployment. Guys
with names like Santiago, Moreno, Aguilera, Ramirez, Romano, Roybal and
Jiminez. There truly is strength
through diversity. I had never worked with such a diverse group of firefighters
and I came away with a lot of satisfaction with that. I had never dealt with
that at Air Guard bases in Peoria and Springfield and certainly never in
Galesburg.
The Welcome Home
Thanks
to email I was able to correspond with my family and good friends while I was
deployed. My brothers at the Galesburg Fire Department were great with keeping
in touch with me. Phone calls (morale calls) were limited and every email was
screened for security reasons. The Zephyr
would arrive on an inconsistent basis and sometimes would be battered and tore
up. My wife sent me Packinghouse cinnamon rolls (very popular with our guys)
and smell-good stuff from the Calico Cat. Cooks and Company did a nice job
sending her flowers from me every month.
I
flew back from SW Asia to Leipzig, Germany—it used to be East Germany, by
the Polish border. It was a converted Red Army base. Then on to Baltimore where
we were greeted by about a dozen veterans in a show of support. This was
embarrassing to me but I thanked each and every one of them for their service.
I went to the Memorial Day parade in Galesburg my third day back home. I was
glad to stand in the background. I havenÕt done anything. Certainly, not in
comparison to those who served before me or are in the streets of Baghdad
today. I was lucky. I was with a great group of guys. I had great training,
great equipment. Running three miles every Friday was a pain, all the equipment
you carry is a necessary evil, the heat drains the hell out of you, you get
sick of drinking water and you get mentally exhausted after working every
single day.
But
if I go back again in 18 months, so be it.
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