Baltimore Sun
April 26, 1999

Naval Aviators Helped Protect Rescuers Of Downed F-117 Pilot

Operation in early days of air war a highlight for 2 Naval Academy grads

By Ann LoLordo, Sun Foreign Staff

"We were told to go back, not knowing the status of the search-and-rescue mission, not knowing whether we had to go back out, not knowing if any other crews were down, not knowing if it was successful." -- Luke, Navy aviator

AVIANO AIR BASE, Italy -- Their mission over Yugoslavia scratched because of stormy weather, the Navy aviators of the "Garuda" squadron were getting ready to pack up their gear and call it a night.

Then the call came: "Launch immediately." An F-117A Nighthawk stealth fighter-bomber had been hit over Yugoslavia. The pilot was down, somewhere in a barren stretch of enemy territory near Belgrade.

A pilot from Maryland, nicknamed Jolly, was catching up on his paperwork when he was picked for the mission to help rescue the only NATO pilot downed since the bombing of Yugoslavia began.

Another aviator, who goes by the handle Luke, was checking his e-mail when he got the call.

Because of the sensitivity of their work, Luke and Jolly, both 32 and graduates of the Naval Academy in Annapolis, can be identified only by their nicknames under military rules.

The two fliers threw on their gear, grabbed their guns -- required of aviators on combat missions -- and headed for their EA-6B Prowler, the Navy's gray bubble-nosed radar-jamming jet, which provides an electronic shield for fighter pilots.

"It was my first flight here," said Jolly, a 1989 Naval Academy graduate born and raised in Annapolis. "We had no idea where we were going, what we were doing other than they need us in the air."

It was the night of March 27, the fourth night of the air war in Yugoslavia -- an evening of intrigue and confusion, frustration and danger for the two aviators. It was a mission that stretched long into the night and left this flight crew in the dark about its outcome until the Prowler returned to base. It produced the most exhilarating moment of the Balkans war -- so far -- for these two aviators.

It was the moment they learned the downed pilot had been saved.

When Jolly landed the Prowler safely at Aviano that Sunday morning last month, neither he nor the other three crew members knew the fate of the pilot. A larger than normal maintenance crew awaited them.

"What's the deal?" one of the aviators asked.

"We got him, sir," came the reply.

"We all started screaming," recalled Luke.

The rescue of the downed stealth bomber pilot has been the highlight of their nearly monthlong stay at the Aviano Air Base, the staging ground for the NATO strikes. They played a small part in a complex mission carried out by elite Air Force commandos who swooped into the hills northwest of Belgrade for the rescue.

Luke and Jolly fly with Tactical Electronic Warfare Squadron (VAQ) 134, one of four Navy radar-jamming squadrons deployed here from Naval Air Station Whidbey Island, Wash. Nicknamed "the Garudas," the VAQ-134 aviators have been part of the NATO airstrikes in Yugoslavia since their outset March 24.

Last week, as they relaxed between missions at the Aviano base, Jolly and Luke talked about aspects of their missions in the skies over Yugoslavia.

The Whidbey Island detachment has an indispensable function -- to provide an electronic shield for the contingent of fighter pilots flying bombing and missile runs over Yugoslavia. They accompany attack planes on their flights, but the missions are mapped out according to a meticulously planned time line and sophisticated statistical data. The radar-jamming planes are usually not within sight of the attack planes.

On the night the stealth bomber crashed, there were no detailed plans mapped out for the VAQ-134 crew members. They got the word to go, and launched. Their instructions came while they were airborne.

"This was not a mission that was preplanned. We had no charts. We had to make do with very little information," said Luke, a Minnesota native.

Jolly was piloting the Prowler in his first combat mission. He was well-trained. He had participated in simulated attacks off the coast of Korea. Last fall, sitting on the deck of an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf, he was set to accompany bombers headed for Iraq. But President Clinton canceled Operation Desert Strike at the last minute.

On the night of the pilot rescue, Jolly worked in concert with another radar-jamming Prowler. Talking to each other by radio, the pilots headed to different areas to provide cover for fighters that remained in the air to protect the downed pilot.

The job of the VAQ Prowlers is to look and listen -- watching computer displays for signs of enemy radar, locating it, classifying it and then disabling it. The crews use high-tech electronic equipment to identify enemy radar, then jam it.

"A flick of a button and we have a lot of power going out, jamming," said Luke, who is an electronics countermeasures officer.

They can confuse enemy radar by dumping metal-like strips and chaff in the hope that Serbian anti-aircraft artillery will lock on the decoy material. If necessary, the crew can launch a high-speed anti-radiation missile (HARM) to take out enemy radar.

On that foggy night, a break in the clouds provided the Prowler crew with a glimpse of the anti-aircraft activity below, a display Luke likened to the flickering of Fourth of July sparklers. Flying miles high, the Prowler was safely out of the line of fire. But it was fast running low on fuel, the aviators said.

Bad weather frustrated their attempts to hook up with an airborne refueling tanker. As the Prowler approached one tanker, the crew realized it had an incompatible fuel delivery system.

"We hit our bingo profile," Luke said, referring to the plane's emergency fuel supply, "and started heading home when we saw another tanker and went for it."

Word came for the Prowler to return to Aviano.

"We were told to go back, not knowing the status of the search-and-rescue mission, not knowing whether we had to go back out, not knowing if any other crews were down, not knowing if it was successful," said Luke.

But in the end, the homecoming was sweet.

"We were elated to know we were part of that mission to save an aviator," said Luke. "This was a textbook mission. And it's a good feeling to know that everything they taught us worked out."

Not every mission is as exciting. They start out with a long flight down the Adriatic Sea. Then there's the pit stop at a refueling tanker, always challenging in bad weather. Besides relying on altitude coordinates, "you have to look for a set of lights that may be your tanker," said Luke.

"The Prowler doesn't have any radar. It doesn't have any night-vision goggles, so you are really relying on your eyes to pick out another set of lights," Luke added. "We're basically a defenseless platform up there."

As the Prowler proceeds into enemy country, the crew activates its jamming equipment and cuts its lights for protection. Luke checks his computer display to detect enemy radar-tracking equipment and ensure the Prowler's jammers are pointed in the right direction. The strike planes are usually several miles ahead of them.

"Basically what we're doing is creating a fog of war to prevent them from being seen," said Luke.

A mission may be long and tedious, where its "vulnerability periods" pass without incident. There may be little if any moonlight, and "all we see is black and lights," he said. They may see bombs exploding in the distance, but they don't know the targets.

Jolly recalled the night an F-16 Fighting Falcon "almost ran into us" while his Prowler was headed for a fuel stop. "You live on the premise of big sky, little airplane and then you get woken up by an F-16 flashing before your face," he said.

Crew members don't rely only on sophisticated countermeasure systems. Their eyes are scanning the night sky. Their ears are tuned to the radio, listening for any reported threats. On one of Luke's flights, the crew dispatched a HARM to take out enemy radar and the flash of the HARM's orange tail of flame gave away their position.

"The enemy, seeing that big flash of light, started shooting [anti-aircraft artillery]," Luke said. "They were just throwing them up there, hopefully to get a lucky shot."

Once the crew left enemy territory that night, the locker-room chatter began.

During the missions, Luke and Jolly down lots of bottled water. They munch on Snickers, Milky Ways or Kit Kats for energy. On one run, the crew brought along a U.S. flag at the request of a family back home that wanted it for a veteran's funeral.

It was a mission during which the crew was deep into what Luke calls "bad-guy country." The family "really appreciated" the crew's gesture, said Luke.

"We said the flag earned it."

Jolly is looking forward to returning home. One benefit of being deployed at Aviano is that he can call home any chance he gets.

And when he does, his 3-year-old daughter tells him, "Daddy, come home now."