General Leaf’s two-star status put him on an equal footing with General McKiernan’s principal deputies for operations, intelligence, and other combat functions, thus ensuring that General Moseley’s perspective as the air component commander would be accorded due attention during land component staff meetings and briefings. In comments after the major combat phase of Iraqi Freedom was over, General Leaf said that the campaign experience had strongly validated the ACCE concept as a means of better facilitating air-land integration. McKiernan’s deputy for operations, Maj. Gen. William Webster, echoed Leaf’s views:
I think the access to joint fires, especially close air support and interdiction, was unprecedented. The ability to shoot things with access to Navy, Marine [Corps], and Air Force air was unprecedented. A lot of it had to do with the [air component commander] placing General Leaf there with me, side by side. He and I made an agreement up front that whether we disagreed personally at any point in time, we would not let that get in the way of anything. . . . And there were times when we didn’t agree on something. But as we train and fight together, we will get better over time.25
To further enhance the integration of air and land component operations, General Moseley established the 484th Air Expeditionary Wing as an overarching theater air control system (TACS) headquartered in Qatar. Col. Michael Longoria, the unit’s commander, observed that the timely initiative reflected “the realization [of] General Moseley’s vision [to have] one person, one commander . . . to go to [and] address any issues [with] how that system is working.”26 The TACS organization extended the reach of the CAOC down to the lowest tactical level of allied ground forces operating in Iraqi battlespace. It also provided the TACPs that supported V Corps’ ground units throughout Iraq by conducting terminal attack control for on-call CAS sorties. One of the wing’s subordinate groups, the 4th Air Support Operations Group (ASOG), ran the ASOC (call sign Warhawk), which vectored airborne aircraft into the fight and put their aircrews in contact with TACPs on the ground who were assigned to the 4th ASOG’s 15th Expeditionary Air Support Operations Squadron (EASOS).27 An informed account later explained that the ASOC at first was basically “a traffic cop pushing V Corps sorties to forward air controllers. To improve fires between the Air Force and Army, the ASOC was redesigned to not only provide timely air support to the [Army] divisions, but also to allow the corps commander to shape the battlespace. The ASOC would continue its traditional role of providing CAS to the divisions, but it would also direct kill-box interdiction in open ground space that became known as corps shaping. . . . All these improvements would have a dramatic effect on the upcoming conflict in Iraq.”28
The ASOC coordinated with V Corps’ plans and operations functions and integrated its own operations with the fires and effects coordination cell and Army airspace command and control at the corps level. During the three-week campaign, the ASOC’s battle managers made a determined effort to assign additional JTACs to the 3rd ID during the latter’s advance toward Baghdad. A much-improved communications link between the ASOC and the CAOC since Operation Enduring Freedom allowed both entities to make the most of TBMCS, a latest-generation CAOC mission-planning tool (see below).
Problems encountered in Enduring Freedom accounted almost entirely for CENTAF’s determination to assign a full-up ASOC to General Wallace’s V Corps. The initially flawed execution of Operation Anaconda by CJTF Mountain starkly highlighted the need for a properly equipped, staffed, and functioning ASOC collocated with key ground combat headquarters to enable more responsive and effective air support to counterland operations. During their workups for Anaconda, the commanders of CJTF Mountain, and of CENTCOM’s land component more generally, did not bring the CAOC into their mission planning. As a result, once the operation was under way and on the point of coming unglued in the face of unexpected heavy fire from the defending Al Qaeda force, supporting JTACs in need of urgent air support put their requests either directly to the CAOC or to an airborne E-3 AWACS that was operating in the area. This hastily arranged procedure permitted neither coordination nor prioritization of those air support requests.
In addition, the absence of a common operating picture throughout Anaconda left fighting units on the ground unaware of the presence and location of other friendly units in their immediate area of operations, not only conventional ground combat units but also covert SOF and CIA teams. This untenable situation led to the subsequent establishment of an ASOC at Bagram Air Base, which in turn became the precursor to the joint air control element that was eventually created for Iraqi Freedom. Although the relationship between V Corps’ ASOC and the CAOC once Iraqi Freedom got under way sometimes became strained (see Chapter 5), it can be said without qualification, as CENTAF staffers later recalled, “that the close working relationship between the ASOC and V Corps’ fires and effects coordination cell increased the level of trust between the land and air component commanders.”29
As the planning workups for Operation Iraqi Freedom neared execution, a close trust relationship was also forged between the air component and I MEF with respect to the apportionment and combat use of Marine Corps aviation. General Moseley, in accordance with accepted joint doctrine and in his capacity as the overall air component commander, retained ultimate authority (operational control) over the allocation of Marine fixed-wing aircraft for all long-range strike, tactical air reconnaissance, and defensive counterair mission needs. Also in accordance with joint doctrine, however, based on the authority granted to him as CENTCOM’s airspace control authority (ACA) by General Franks, he delegated to the Marine ground commander tactical control over all Marine Corps air assets deemed necessary for direct support of Marine combat operations on the ground, with the proviso that on the rare occasion that those air assets might be needed to help underwrite broader theater air component needs, the Marine commander would cede unemployed Marine air assets back to the CAOC for the length of time required to help meet broader theater combat requirements.30
General Moseley further promised to provide the Marines any additional air component–controlled air support that they might require from Air Force and Navy strike assets in order to meet their direct support needs of the moment.31 This trust relationship was facilitated by I MEF’s provision of a Marine aviator, Col. Ron McFarland, to General Moseley’s CAOC staff. McFarland helped educate Air Force airmen regarding Marine Corps operational requirements and potential contributions to the joint and combined air war.32 An especially notable success story that emerged from this close relationship entailed integrating I MEF and its associated command and control system into the air component’s overall KI/CAS operation without, as CAOC planners later put it, “creating an airspace bubble within a bubble.”33 General Moseley held several conferences with members of the Marine aviation community before the start of Iraqi Freedom aimed at integrating all airspace requests and control measures into a single structure. His success is evident in the fact that no significant Marine-associated airspace management problems occurred during the war.
Yet another such issue that had a happy ending entailed ensuring that the Marine Corps’ direct support ATO was fused into the air component’s overall ATO and the ensuing joint and combined air offensive. Toward that end, KI/CAS planners in the CAOC worked closely with I MEF’s direct support ATO planners to ensure an overall unity of effort. I MEF agreed to release its direct support F/A-18C sorties to General Moseley on an as-needed basis to support deep-attack operations in exchange for CAOC-controlled A-10 sorties. As a result, CAOC and I MEF planners succeeded in overcoming the daunting challenge of providing needed air support to friendly ground forces operating deep inside central Iraq with the limited tanker assets that were available at the time. CENTAF staffers later recalled, however, that overcoming these distances required the KI/CAS planners “to perform a day-to-day balancing act.”34
The air component’s arrangement for providing as-needed CAS to I MEF worked differently and more efficiently than did the V Corps/ASOC s
ystem (see Chapter 5). Throughout the major combat phase of Iraqi Freedom, I MEF preferred to follow established Marine Corps doctrine, which normally places the FSCL approximately eighteen nautical miles in front of the forward line of troops (FLOT). Because a MEF is essentially a division-sized combat element that lacks both long-range artillery and a corps-level force element for conducting battlespace shaping at the forward edge of its area of operations, the Marines typically position their FSCL closer to their FLOT and use their organic direct support air assets to conduct shaping beyond it. Whenever the Army’s FSCL was placed deeper than eighteen nautical miles beyond the FLOT, I MEF units operating within it used a fire support coordination measure called the battlefield coordination line (BCL). All battlespace shaping beyond the BCL was conducted by fixed-wing air assets. In addition, I MEF opened all kill boxes beyond its BCL to enable air interdiction even when those kill boxes were inside the FSCL. This resulted in a more efficient use of the air component’s KI/CAS assets than did V Corps’ more restrictive arrangement.35 On this score, General Moseley later wrote in his candid foreword to a book on Marine aviation’s contribution to Iraqi Freedom: “As the fight began, planning work and execution responsibility were taken and shared so effectively that lines between the services faded over the battlefield. . . . What matters is having the right weapon at the right place at the right time.”36
The ACCE position that proved so pivotal in Iraqi Freedom has since been formally codified in U.S. joint doctrine. What has yet to be put into joint doctrine, however, is the notion that an ACCE can be supplied to a joint task force commander in lieu of a full-up air component commander and AOC, even though such a simpler arrangement might be the more efficient and effective way to use joint air power. As for the likely composition of future ACCEs, General Leaf suggested that the team should be structured to allow the ACCE director to function as a senior representative of the air component commander around the clock, requiring varied air and space operations expertise, intelligence support, and a limited staff. At most, such a team would not exceed eighteen officers. For Iraqi Freedom, Leaf chose to augment his twelve-member Air Force team with a Marine Corps pilot, a naval aviator, and three RAF officers who had already been forward-deployed for the impending campaign.37
One problem reported with the ACCE construct was the seam it created in the otherwise smooth interface in command relations between the ACCE and the air component commander, on the one hand, and the ASOC and CAOC director, on the other. Current joint doctrine states that the ASOC is an extension of the CAOC and accordingly reports to the CAOC director. Yet the plan worked out by the 4th ASOG that was assigned to support V Corps stressed that the ASOC should be regarded as the sole controlling agency for all aerial weapons delivery inside the FSCL, recognizing both the ASOC’s better awareness and appreciation of the local state of play on the ground compared with that of the more remote CAOC, and its close integration with V Corps’ intelligence staff and its fires and effects coordination cell. The ASOC staff’s main frustration concerned the center’s inability to make the best use of the large number of aircraft that had been allocated to it by the CAOC because the V Corps commander insisted on complete control of all kill boxes inside the FSCL. He opened the kill boxes only when munitions delivery into them could be disciplined by the most stringent Type I CAS control, even though incoming requests for air support by engaged Army units were generally for situations that neither entailed close proximity of V Corps troops to enemy forces nor required the detailed integration of air support with the fire and movement of friendly ground troops that is mandated by Type I CAS procedures. Air planners and operators later concluded that the relationships between the ACCE, the ASOC, and the CAOC need to be better defined.38
Nevertheless, the air component’s delivery of CAS throughout the major combat phase of Iraqi Freedom earned high marks from both Army and Marine Corps consumers of the service. The commander of V Corps, Lieutenant General Wallace, later recalled: “We’ve gotten more close air support and more availability of CAS and more access to CAS than I can remember.”39 The most thorough review to date of Army operations in the three-week campaign enthusiastically agreed:
The air component’s units moved and fought at the strategic, operational, and tactical levels and performed brilliantly at all levels. Rapid and precise attacks on time-sensitive targets at all three levels demonstrated the inherent flexibility of the air arm. Air interdiction and CAS had been a bone of contention between the Army and the Air Force, in particular. In this campaign, thanks in part to personal efforts on the part of senior leaders, but also as a consequence of the maturation of joint doctrine and joint operations, that seam practically disappeared. . . . CAS proved decisive in assuring tactical victory and, on more than one occasion, decisive in preventing tactical defeat. Perhaps just as important, CAS provided a strong boost to troops on the ground, who were profoundly grateful to the airmen who flew those missions. What had [once] been a source of irritation has become a source of satisfaction and admiration.40
The 3rd ID’s after-action assessment of the division’s experiences during the three-week campaign likewise spoke warmly of the air component’s contributions to the success of the land offensive: “Throughout [Operation Iraqi Freedom], air support had a major impact on the battlefield. Air support proved highly successful both in shaping operations [and] in the close fight. The division utilized air support for a number of different missions, including shaping, armed [reconnaissance], counterfire, and CAS. Responsiveness, lethality, and integration into maneuver contributed to the success of CAS on the battlefield.”41 Characterizing CAS as “a great combat multiplier,” the assessment reported that “a total of 925 CAS sorties were flown in support of 3 ID (M), resulting in 656 enemy combat systems destroyed and 89 enemy facilities destroyed. Corps shaping accounted for an additional 3,324 sorties destroying an estimated 2,400 enemy targets.”42 With respect to the combat performance of fixed-wing air power in facilitating the ground advance, the assessment further noted that “division ALOs [air liaison officers] positioned CAS stacks to facilitate quick response based on the ground commander’s scheme of maneuver. . . . As a result, CAS requests for troops-in-contact situations were available in 5–10 minutes. In fact, CAS was so responsive [that] at times the [ASOC] held CAS in waiting for division clearance. For all other requests, responsiveness ranged from 5–30 minutes. These delays were due to higher-priority division requests being filled, as well as gaps within the [ATO]. There were very rare occasions when weather increased the CAS responsiveness to 45 minutes to an hour.”43
Effective provision of CAS by allied fixed-wing aircraft required the use of a nine-line attack briefing format, a standard procedure in joint air support practice going back to well before Desert Storm in 1991, that contained all the information an attacking pilot needed in order to approach his assigned target area, conduct his attack safely, and egress expeditiously. The nine-line briefing consists of the following components:
1.Initial point—the point from which the CAS platform commences its attack run
2.Bearing/offset—the heading from the initial point to target and offset direction (left or right)
3.Distance—in nautical miles from the initial point to the target
4.Elevation—of the target in feet above mean sea level
5.Target description (as brief, concise, and complete as may be needed)
6.Target location—geographic coordinates for the target
7.Mark—type of visual or laser mark that the JTAC will put on the intended target aim point
8.Friendlies—heading and distance from the target to the nearest friendly unit
9.Egress—heading and initial point for the CAS aircraft to fly to clear the target area after weapon release
An informed account explained the practical application of this procedure:
Additional information was provided after the nine-line brief, including the expected time on target (time when [the]
CAS aircraft’s bombs must hit the target) and final attack heading/cone (either a heading or an arc of headings that the CAS aircraft must fly down when delivering weapons onto the target). This information would be relayed to the pilot via a radio frequency unique to this particular FAC team, the latter having literally a phonebook of frequencies they could choose from. . . . The pilots, in turn, had a notebook-sized frequency “smart pack” that they would leaf through in order to ascertain the correct channel to dial into their radios to allow them to communicate with their FAC. . . . The pilot would physically write down the FAC’s nine-line brief onto his kneeboard, and he would then read back the coordinates to check that he had copied them correctly. The FAC would then confirm with a simple “yes” or a mike click. Once he had received this, the pilot would then start to punch the target coordinates into the bomb guidance system. . . . Once the release parameters had been met, the pilot would tell the FAC that he was set up for his run to the target, giving him the “wings-level” call, which would prompt [the FAC’s] reply of “cleared hot.” The pilot now had the FAC’s authority to release his ordnance—the former could not do so without the latter’s approval. . . . The final call on whether to release the ordnance or not was ultimately [the FAC’s] to make. A pilot would never question his decision.44
One F/A-18 pilot recalled with respect to the application of this procedure: “Communication between the pilot and the FAC could be difficult at times, especially if the frequencies weren’t quite right or the SOF guy had a weak radio or low battery power. On some occasions, you could only hear him when you were right on top of him.”45 It was by no means unusual for pilots to come off a tanker, establish radio contact with a FAC, and then use up their entire load of just-replenished fuel trying to determine exactly what the FAC was talking about. Sometimes pilots would have to make more than one return trip to the tanker to top off their fuel before they were sure what targets their FAC wanted to have attacked.
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