Hurricane Andrew By the summer of 1992, the new Westover AFB wing commander, “Ski”, had pretty much driven innovation and curiosity out of the Westover force created by B/G Mike Walker. He had picked fights with virtually every one of us on the previous commander’s team and caused most to leave or crouch into a purely defensive mode. I’m sure he relished the lack of unapproved noises coming from Westover so Reserve headquarters (AFRES) would be pleased with him -- and that was the entire objective of his career, to have AFRES pleased with him. Alas, for Ski, an ominous event approached that would vividly display the real world drawback to his methods and standard military methods in general. In late August Hurricane Andrew, a soon-to-be Category 5 monster storm, approached lower Florida. This was of absolutely no concern to officialdom at Westover since the storm would never come near us in Massachusetts. The remnants of the previous Westover team, however, saw an opportunity. General Walker had encouraged us to think broadly and outside the box, in the current vernacular, and we had. As Andrew began churning toward Florida, we developed a plan. We knew that the primary problem after a hurricane was a lack of ability to inspect and survey damage in the immediate aftermath of the storm. Those who had been hit would be too shell-shocked to report, power and communication would be disrupted, and no one would have thought to have the means to inspect in the immediate aftermath. Thus it had been previously, and, seemingly, would always be, as Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans showed thirteen years later. We at Westover did have the means, however. On the weekend prior to Andrew hitting Florida on Monday, Aug 24, we had a FEMA communications van and technicians sitting in a Westover parking lot on a separate training mission. We had Massachusetts National Guard helicopters and pilots available, and a C-5 aircraft to carry the van and the chopper to Florida, as near as possible to affected area, as the wind subsided. Had we been able to execute this mission, we could have put knowledgeable eyes into the skies over Homestead, Florida, and been able to relay their reports back to national authorities immediately through the FEMA communications van. This was precisely what was needed at precisely the right time, which ensured no one would think it plausible. In retrospect, it is amazing Ski didn’t get wind of this and stomp on it immediately. He did stomp on it, but not until almost every other bureaucracy involved and already done so. As we coordinated the plan, we had to say mother-may-we to several bureaucratic monstrosities, most of whom initially shrieked that we could never be allowed to do such things. The first stop, however, started well. The Massachusetts Army Guard gave permission to use its helicopter and pilots, but warned that the Massachusetts Guard commander would have to ask for permission from his Florida counterpart to operate in Florida airspace. While we awaited word on that front, we petitioned the FEMA workers to get permission from Washington to allow us to use their van, and them, for the mission. The final requirement would be to have Air Force Reserve Headquarters (AFRES) allow the use of a crew and C-5 to transport the helicopter and van to Florida. Since Andrew was nearing its target, a crew would have to be put into 12-hour crew rest very soon. Then, by serendipity, it seemed at the time, AMC airlift headquarters (TACC) called and asked us to put a “Bravo” (standby) crew into crew rest for possible Hurricane Andrew relief. Well, at least someone was thinking more than two-steps ahead. While appreciated, this seemed to be preparation for reaction, instead of proactive planning, by TACC. While things looked promising at this point, the torpedoes were already in the water for us. When the Massachusetts Army Guard commander spoke with his Florida counterpart, the counterpart exploded. He took umbrage at some other state having the audacity to want to operate in his airspace instead of his forces doing so! He would handle any Hurricane relief requirements, thank you, and didn’t need any help from Massachusetts! However, within 24-hours his choppers would be twisted pretzels sitting upside down in trees and his forces would be in utter disarray for weeks after the storm. Homestead AFB would be largely obliterated by Andrew and of no use in recovery efforts. With no Florida Guard or active duty choppers available, there would be no military helicopters in the skies over the disaster area for days, and therefore no realization of the disaster’s scope. Next, FEMA regional and national headquarters reported that they could not find anyone on the weekend to approve the plan, therefore we did not have permission to use the FEMA equipment or personnel. This dumbfounded us. The very mission that the FEMA trailer and workers had been created and funded to perform would not be performed because no one would give permission. The FEMA team had permission and funding to train for the real thing, but could not get permission to participate in the real thing? One wonders what the training was for if they would stand down precisely when needed? At Monday standup at Westover, the very day Andrew tore up Florida, Ski made it three-out-of four bureaucracies who invalidated themselves by failing to perform the mission they had been funded to perform. As with the others, AFRES would cover up its delinquency instead of correcting the problem. Background is required to fully outline the utter imbecility of AFRES procedures in this fiasco. The reserves operate on “man-days”, or funding for one person for one active duty day. Each unit begins the fiscal year in October with enough man-days to last them through the spring. For some reason, Congress withholds the final man-day allocation until the proper resolutions are passed in the summer. If this legislation is held up, it creates a man-day shortage. Reportedly, the AFRES commander has been threatened with severe repercussions if he allows any man-day usage before the final package is passed. This creates the yearly, artificial, man-day crunch. Even though it happens every year, commanders gravely intone, every year, that, although this has happened before, this time the really mean it! This time the wolf is really at the door and there will be NO man-days for ANYTHING until October 1. Simulators will be canceled, minimum numbers of crew members will be sent on missions, training curtailed, and no one will be authorized a man-day without explicit authorization by a full colonel or above! Hurricane Andrew arrived in the middle of such an artificial man-day crunch. When I authorized the Bravo crew at TACC’s direction, the word somehow got to AFRES headquarters, and holy hell broke loose. Without realizing TACC had requested the Bravo, AFRES and, therefore, Ski, thought I had done it on my own. I’m sure Ski endured his most dreaded fear – HHQ displeasure – on my behalf. Later, when I talked to a man-day manager at AFRES, he fairly screamed into the phone: “There will be hell to pay for this!!!” There would be hell to pay, all right, but not the kind he envisioned. An entire string of officials, from President H.W. Bush on down, would be asked why they failed to respond to this national catastrophe for three days. So, at standup on Hurricane Andrew Monday, Ski set me up and cut me in half in front of the assembled multitude of staff members. “Col Lacklen, I understand we have a Bravo in crew rest,” he said. “Yes, sir, we put them in crew rest last night…” I said, starting to explain the call from TACC. At this point, Ski cut me off as he made a horizontal slicing motion with his hand and fairly hissed: “Bringing up your own personal Bravos again, Lacklen?!” This represented a severe public rebuke for an action he had not taken the time to investigate or to understand. As always, this did not impede him from hacking to pieces his supposed culprit. Ski then launched into a long recitation of the near criminality of awarding unwarranted man-days against regulation. By the time he finished, all present must have been thinking I’d be on the next C-5 bound for Camp Red Cloud, Korea, to become the club officer. Had Andrew not done its terribly effective work, I might have been. After Andrew had passed over Florida that day, an ominous silence enveloped the entire area. No one knew anything: not how bad the damage was, not how many had died, nothing. There was no word from the devastated area and there would not be for two days. Most attention then shifted to the second landfall forecast for Louisiana. I kept looking for damage reports from Florida, but there were none until late Wednesday. Finally, word began to dribble out of the area. The Category Five storm had literally flattened Homestead, Florida and several other communities. Andrew had gone through the area as a near tornado ten miles across. Over 60 people were dead, 25 billion dollars of damage had been done, and the survivors were desperate for water and medical aide. They, Florida Congressmen, and news commentators, demanded to know where the government had been for two days while southern Florida was dying? Andrew had inflicted the most expensive natural catastrophe in American history, and it took two days for America to even realize it. Thursday standup at Westover had a decidedly different flavor to it. Ski was now in desperately humble awe of the catastrophe and assured all the staff members that Westover would spare no expense to contribute to the recovery effort in Florida. Then, as I knew he would, he turned to me. “Jay, I want you to offer AFRES all the Bravo crews we can spare and I have been assured there will be as many man-days as we want for this effort.” He even managed to keep a straight face while he said this. Hell was now being paid. He must have seen the fire in my eyes, however, because he looked away quickly. I wanted to slice my hand through the air, and ask if he wanted the same type of Bravo crews he had publicly slammed me for bringing up on Sunday, when they might have done some good, might have saved people in Florida, and might have saved the president from the ferocious flogging he was now taking in public opinion? THOSE kind of Bravo crews, sir? And, of course, the previously non-existent man-days would now be rained upon us a few days early. We could now have pilots painting fences to try to use up all the man-days before the end of the fiscal year. The press was disemboweling officials up and down the line from Florida to the White House, and now, NOW, Ski wanted to be proactive? I’m sure his next efficiency report would gloat over his tight management acumen for parsimonious use of man-days, and brag of all the money he had saved the government. Apparently the AFRES mission is to save money, not to fight wars or rescue people in natural disasters. We are bean counters who reward the counting of beans, not warriors who arrive in a timely manner to save the day. (Excerpt from Flying the Line, an Air Force Pilots Journey, book two, not yet published.)
Posted on: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 13:00:46 +0000