I do like the idea of anti-Saudi groups within Saudi Arabia calling on the Jordanians for protection. That might be a humanitarian fig leaf to get the Jordanians involved (against the Saudis if not necessarily allied to the Iraqis) and might allow them to get away with it.
Lines in the Sand: A History of the Gulf War
- Thread starter NeoDesperado
- Start date
Nick P
Donor
Last year I had a chat with an RAF ground tech who asserted that the bulk of the Saudi Air Force were ex-RAF or RNZAF pilots who'd taken early retirement in order to earn triple the pay tax-free in a sandy place. This was true of the RSAF when they had English Electric Lightnings.
http://www.saudicareers.co.uk/Our-people/ refers to today but it was the same back then.
Part of the BAE Tornado deal in 1985 was to provide training and they sought experienced instructors. Some were seconded from the RAF for a year or two, others were hired from civvy street with recent relevant experience. These were both pilots and ground crew.
BAE only started deliveries of the Tornado ADV (Air Defence Version) in 1989 which would go a long way to explaining why the Saudi crews are not doing well in air-to-air combat.
The RSAF should be doing better with the F-15 Eagles which they've had since 1981 but the cultural differences...
Right, the USAF is still getting itself properly established at Al Kharj while this is going on, so for the immediate moment they only have 24 F-15s available for combat. They helped with airstrikes during the Battle of Hafar Al Batin, but it was pure Saudi Air Force over Jubayl. As the campaign goes on, American pilots may be seeing an increasing share of air missions and all the risks that entails.
General Hayyan may be going it alone, but there's still very little the Saudis have arrayed against him, and every moment the Yemenis delay allows more Egyptian forces to arrive on the scene.
The raid from the Independence hit a lot of targets, but we shouldn't count out the closure just yet.
I'm reading the first post... I've subscribed.
BTW, I first thought the title said LIES in the sand, but then I saw it wasn't about the 2003 Gulf War... ha ha! ha.
It could end up as a back-handed best-case scenario, with hard-core secularists overthrowing the Wahhabi theocracy, liberating the female half of the population in terms of socio-economic opportunity (politically, everyone gets treated the same, like sheep suspected of rabies) and with no use for Al Qaeda folks.
I look forward to reading this.
Thank you both kindly! Things are definitely going to change in the Middle East when the smoke finally clears, one of my goals going in was avoiding a basic retelling of OTL Desert Shield/Storm with the dates changed.
NeoDesperado
Fascinating update. Looking grim at the moment but the Iraqis have stopped, at least for the moment, short of Dhahran, which I think is the most important centre. This could be fatal for them as it allows a bit more time to get reinforcements there. Although they can still launch air attacks to destroy installations and all those F-15's that can't be flown worry me. [Especially since knowing this the USAF probably want to keep some CAP over them].
It sounds like relations between the Saudi monarchy and bin-Laden are going to prevent the OTL close links. Which could however be dangerous down the line.
I also noticed the poor performance of the Saudi forces, not just in the air.
Saddam has a very large force but he also has a lot of enemies. If Syria and Turkey are assembling sizeable forces on his borders he will have to take some precautions, even without his paranoia.
One nation missing from the list was Iran, who are probably less than happy with the idea of him getting the Saudi oilfields under his control. I wonder if they might also station a lot of forces on their border, either from their own efforts or someone with some brains and diplomatic nonce elsewhere dropping a hint. Even Khomani may have doubts about another bloodbath but the Iranians could probably achieve a lot without actual fighting.
The awkward bit for the allies might be if continued Saudi incompetence prompts serious unrest and division in the kingdom leading to a clear challenge to their rule. Which would make getting an alliance together a lot more difficult. Also one group asking for Jordanian protection is the one thing that might just, although even then it would probably be unlikely, get them dragged into the war.
Anyway, looking forward to seeing how things develop.
Steve
Thanks! The best metaphor I can think of for the northern front is two gunfighters who finished emptying every chamber at each other to no avail, and are now trying to out-race the other to reload first.
I'll be going into it a bit more in later chapters, but from what I've read of Saudi forces in the OTL Gulf War they're in it to put on a good face and expect that others can ultimately handle it so they don't have to bother.
I honestly should have mentioned Iran as well in the last update and probably will in the coming one, but as the Iraqi advance is petering out, forces in Syria, Turkey and Iran will be positioning themselves on the border, primarily to keep Saddam from getting any ideas, but he can't just ignore the threats and will have to redeploy troops to counter them. Which couldn't come at a worse time when he needs them (and their supplies) so badly in the south.
Yep, Saudi Arabia is hurting bad and despite the Iraqi halt it's still not over. We'll just have to see if they can keep it together in the coming weeks.
Right, bin Laden is still furious over having Western troops in the country, but the straits Saudi Arabia is in right now may butterfly his thinking on what to do about it down the line.
That's certainly an interesting idea to get a plausible justification for Jordanian intervention. With the latest events in the north, Hussein may still be on the fence but he's starting to lean.
Hmm, okay, that's something I hadn't come across (or overlooked) during my research. Thanks for the info, I'll have to take that factor into account for future updates.
A pretty good TL up to now. I see that things haven't gone quite as pear-shaped as the Saudi High command expected OTL but they are still in a bad position. Still, if the Iraqis can get their logistical system up and running before Western forces blow it to high hell, I reckon they should make another push for Dammam, if only to deny their enemies another base.
So why is the Saudi air force doing so bad if it's really the RAF/RNZAF flying the planes?
Pesterfield
I could think of a couple of reasons:
a) The pilots may not be the best and may have gone soft in their period in Saudi.
b) Even if the pilots are top quality they still depend on a multitude of supporting people. Technictians keeping the a/c running and equipped, people supplying targeting information and advice on what opposition to expect etc. This could markedly degrade their performance as well. Especially since such 2ndary roles are quite probably something the Saudis might not think too important.
Anyway, with any force with no real experience of warfare there will be a pretty savage willowing out of the less capable [and just unlucky]. The survivors will learn a lot rapidly or cease being survivors.
Also i
Damn, just noticed I cut this off for some reason. Can't remember what I was planning to say?
Steve
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Nick P
Donor
I expressed that poorly. The bulk of people my friend met out there were Western ex-military or on secondment, that doesn't mean that the bulk of the Saudi Air force are non-Saudi. I think that my friend may have been exaggarating the numbers but there certainly were a few non-Saudi personnel in all parts of the SAF. I hear from another source that today their Army doesn't maintain their vehicles, they pay a contractor to do that. They have the money to buy shiny new toys and then replace them when they break. Looking after their kit isn't so important. Several hints on the web about the Saudi Army hiring Pakistani troops to drive their tanks.
Now consider the Saudi mindset. Your country has been attacked, the holy sites of Islam are threatened to be occupied by another power/tribe. Do you send up the infidel foreigners to fight for you, that is the good crews who train your own people or do you send in your own people? Send in the sons of your ministers, Saudi Princes and the few who made it past the selection board, the good Muslim boys to defend the home of Islam?
I have no printed facts to confirm this, just going by tales from friends who've been there... A good number of Saudi military personnel are political appointments, their parents may have bought or arranged their places in the Army or Air Force and they would have been expected to reach the top. Having done well at places like the USAF Academy, Sandhurst or West Point would give them an edge but they might get bumped up to ranks they perhaps should not.
SteveP makes a good point of the pilots going soft through lack of recent western training. They may not have not seen combat themselves. Between 1960 and 1990, how many RAF guys actually flew in fast jet air-to-air combat? 20, maybe 30?
All that said, I do think the Saudi victories should be better in this story. Considering the actual losses in OTL, they did better than given credit for.
Thanks! Neither the Iraqi nor the American forces on the ground can attack the other for the moment, but air power from each side will be even more crucial as Saddam's forces try to resupply for another push.
Pesterfield
I could think of a couple of reasons:
a) The pilots may not be the best and may have gone soft in their period in Saudi.
b) Even if the pilots are top quality they still depend on a multitude of supporting people. Technictians keeping the a/c running and equipped, people supplying targeting information and advice on what opposition to expect etc. This could markedly degrade their performance as well. Especially since such 2ndary roles are quite probably something the Saudis might not think too important.
Anyway, with any force with no real experience of warfare there will be a pretty savage willowing out of the less capable [and just unlucky]. The survivors will learn a lot rapidly or cease being survivors.
Also i
Damn, just noticed I cut this off for some reason. Can't remember what I was planning to say?
Steve
Everyone's bringing up some very good points in regard to the ability of the Saudi pilots. When researching this timeline I was operating under the idea that while it wouldn't be a one-sided affair in loss ratios, the majority of the Saudi pilots simply didn't have the combat experience unlike the Iraqi and Yemeni air forces and would do more poorly as a result. I knew that they were using Western hardware and advisers to help modernize their force in the 70s and 80s, but in the event of an actual war they would need outside support or get quickly overwhelmed by the enemy. So my thinking on the losses is partly the lack of veteran pilots and simply being outnumbered in most air-to-air engagements until more help can arrive down the road.
Given the jackhammering the Saudis have taken thus far, I imagine at least some of the deadwood is now burning.
This is truly awesome.
How will the Saudi populace react though? And the west, I'd love to know how the media is reporting this.
How will the Saudi populace react though? And the west, I'd love to know how the media is reporting this.
The U.S. during the 1991 war was very cautious about media and where they were allowed to go and what they were allowed to see. Rather different than the "embedded" journalists of the War on Terror who followed soldiers into battle and oftentimes were hurt or killed.
I don't know the specifics, but that's something to keep in mind.
Here's the Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Media_coverage_of_the_Gulf_War
The "pool system" seems to be the big issue.
ND,
Have you read Tom Clancy's "Into The Storm"? It's a history of the OTL Gulf War I own. It might be useful to you.
You can also get a lot of information off Wikipedia and other Internet sources too.
Have you read Tom Clancy's "Into The Storm"? It's a history of the OTL Gulf War I own. It might be useful to you.
You can also get a lot of information off Wikipedia and other Internet sources too.
We'll be seeing a bit of the reaction on the ground in Saudi Arabia in the next installment. As for the US media, the military still remembers Vietnam and the influence news reports had on public opinion, so while the American public will be hearing about the breakout of hostilities and some speeches by Bush that aggression will not stand, they won't be getting live coverage from Dhahran in front of an unloading C-130.
Thanks very much for the link, I really do need (and intend) to include the CNN factor in the coming campaigns.
I've been wanting to do a history/novel on an alt-Gulf War for a few years, so every time I come across a book on the subject at a used book shop I snag it. Probably have about 20-30 titles scattered around my bookshelves by this point, and the delicious irony is that I've ended up using only a few of them for info. A lot of them like to skip from early August to December 1990, leaving me to shake the book and scream "What happened in between?!".
I look to Wikipedia for a lot of general quick reference stuff, and I found several pdfs online from The Gulf Military Forces in an Era of Asymmetric War put out by the Center for Strategic and International Studies which offers a wonderful breakdown of Middle Eastern military forces in 1990.
For print sources, I've mostly been using:
The Gulf Conflict 1990-1991 by Lawrence Freedman and Efraim Karsh
It Doesn't Take a Hero by Gen. H. Norman Schwarzkopf with Peter Petre
Into the Storm by Tom Clancy with Gen. Fred Franks, Jr. (Ret.)
Storm on the Horizon by David Morris
A World Transformed by George H W Bush and Brent Scowcroft
What I wouldn't give for a master list of which Coalition units and how many of them were arriving in theater on a day by day basis...
Anyway, been busy typing up the next installment, which should be up for everyone's perusal/enjoyment by the coming weekend.
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It's not quite worth buying it simply for the timeline, but if you have access to the Arabs at War by Kenneth Pollack, I'd recommend it. It suffers from a few weaknesses that most books covering Arab military history do (lack of Arab sources, etc) but nevertheless is a good overview of various wars fought by Arab armies and some good analysis of why most wars have ended in failure for the Arabs.
You know, I do seem to have a copy of From Shield to Storm sitting in my Gulf War section. I'll look into it, thanks!
That one I don't have, but I'll see if any of the libraries around here carry it. Thankee for the recommendation!
It's interesting you want to write a novel set in the Gulf War. Would it be straight historical fiction a la The Fist of God, or some kind of AH?
(If you wrote a novel set in this world, I'd buy it. I'm more and more tempted to write a Jordanian short story myself. If they intervened, they'd be the most sympathetic of the mini-Axis--unlike the Iraqis who looted Kuwait City OTL.)
Re: the media, the FAIR link complains to high heaven about U.S. media policy (and the way the media behaved on their own) during the Gulf War, so that might prove information people who are prone to "American f*** yeah" might leave out.
(If you wrote a novel set in this world, I'd buy it. I'm more and more tempted to write a Jordanian short story myself. If they intervened, they'd be the most sympathetic of the mini-Axis--unlike the Iraqis who looted Kuwait City OTL.)
Re: the media, the FAIR link complains to high heaven about U.S. media policy (and the way the media behaved on their own) during the Gulf War, so that might prove information people who are prone to "American f*** yeah" might leave out.
Thankee thankee!
For a long time I wanted to do a straight up military thriller told from several characters' perspectives during the campaign, and once I finish this timeline I may still do that using the installments as a blueprint to work from.
I have a book that CNN put out about the war somewhere, I really need to locate it. It had an interesting look into their explanation for some of the more controversial broadcasts, like the 'milk factory' bombing.
Okay everyone, I've been looking over what I have written for this installment and have decided to just post it tonight as is. It doesn't go quite as far as I had originally intended, but a lot of it can honestly wait until the next one while I get some more reading research done. Acts I and III are quite clear in my head, now it's becoming a matter of filling the gaps to show how we get to the end game.
Lines in the Sand: A History of the Gulf War
V
Excerpt from Stay on Target: A Memoir of the Arabian War
By Staff Sgt. Sonny “Sunshine” Collins (Ret.) Presidio Press 1993
I had barely enough time to collect my gear after touching down at Al Kharj air base before myself and a few others in my team were ordered to get to Hafar Al Batin ASAP. We were still wearing our green BDUs designed for combat in Europe and had no idea when we’d be issued the desert pattern. No one had heard of the place before, but a quick check of the maps showed it as a medium-sized town lying at the junction of Highways 50 and 85 and only about 100 klicks south of occupied Kuwait. Intel had reported a major Republican Guard buildup just across the border, and all signs pointed to another Iraqi spearhead advancing south in the near future, probably within the next 24 hours. The Saudis had decided to make a major effort to defend the place, but with their forces on the scene being outnumbered by about 3 to 1 by the enemy, it would have taken a miracle to hold the place. Apparently the Saudis had decided to quit looking like an incompetent punching bag in favor of becoming a competent one. Saudi air had been mostly committed to missions along the Gulf coast and down south against the Yemenis, and the King had asked General Horner to help fill the gaps and contribute to the aerial defense of Hafar Al Batin. The F-15 Eagles of the 27th Tactical Fighter Squadron had been declared ready for combat operations only a few hours before and would be on call to provide air support for the forces on the scene. It was apparent that the entire operation was a hasty affair with the top brass making up plans on the fly. It was even more apparent that the whole damn thing reeked of a suicide mission from the moment we received our orders. Whatever our misgivings, the Saudis were screaming for us to get involved and help out, so command decided to throw them a bone and attach a few Combat Control Teams to the Saudi brigades in the area. It was a relatively low-risk contribution for them and seemed to appease the Saudi generals, so into the fray we went to serve the King. It would be myself, Boomer, Lucky and Greenhorn against everything Saddam could throw at us.
Because the Air Force still had nothing in the way of helicopter assets on the ground, my team had a RSAF AB-212 (a variant of the Huey) reserved to take us north that afternoon. Whatever exhilaration we felt at being part of the American spear point that would be putting some serious hurt on Saddam was tempered by anxiety; to say that we were underwhelmed by our chances of survival beyond the next 48 hours was putting it extremely mildly. We were supposed to help the Saudis defend Hafar Al Batin in an effort that had no reasonable chance of success. I had briefly but firmly laid out my grievances back at Al Kharj and been reassured by the higher ups that we were merely expected to conduct an elastic defense in the face of an enemy attack, and that every effort was being made to acquire transport by road or air from the Saudis for a speedy evac should things get too messy. Despite their reassurances, I still felt less than confident about the situation, and most of the helicopter trip was spent with the team poring over our maps and working out possible escape-and-evasion routes if things went pear-shaped. Plan A called for making a speedy retreat south on Highway 50 to King Khalid Military City, but if that wasn’t an option we decided to make our way west along Highway 85 to Rafha, hopefully getting retrieved by that point or before. There were a lot of maybes and what-ifs involved, and the only thing we all agreed on was not wanting to spend the rest of the war forgotten in an Iraqi POW camp.
It’s hard to overstate the absolute flatness of the northern Saudi desert. I was fairly used to a zero-elevation landscape having grown up in the Midwest, but even then we still had the occasional hill, or at least trees. There was nothing of the sort here; we were flying over an area that contained no Saudi roads of any sort, just an endless sea of sand and more sand, with the horizon separating the layer of khaki ground from the pale blue of the clear skies above. In any other part of the world I would have welcomed the opportunity at having a clear line of sight for miles around, but the glare from the desert below only served to irritate me at a time when I was already feeling on edge over what lay ahead. Several times during the flight we spotted con trails of jets heading northeast towards the coast and Jubayl, but otherwise we were very much alone in our flight. The pilot hadn’t said much and mostly left us to talk among ourselves during the flight; while he seemed competent enough at his job I couldn’t help but wonder how long it would take for help to arrive should the motor decide to give out. Already in a distinctly unhappy place, my mind conjured images of the wreck and our bodies slowly disappearing into the sands below, just another addition to the MIAs column.
We touched down at Qaisumah Domestic Airport just southeast of Hafar Al Batin and were met on the ground by a few members of the local Saudi National Guard brigade charged with defending the town. They were smartly dressed and had a decent translator along, but what struck me the most at the time was how calm they appeared. Here they were with Iraqi tanks just a few hours driving distance north, and it seemed that they didn’t have a care in the world. They seemed assured that despite the reports of the buildup in Kuwait, the main show would remain on the coast and if the Iraqis did come, the Saudi’s natural superiority would allow them to ultimately prevail. This superiority complex wasn’t so much of a racial thing, but more of an innate belief that as the protectors of Mecca and Medina they were blessed by Allah over their neighbors. This inner faith that God would look after them was all too prevalent among the Saudi higher ups and unduly influenced their defensive preparations. As we rode with the Saudis into town, I saw groups of National Guard V-150 armored cars arranged in a circle, pointing inward for some inexplicable reason. Ground troops were busy digging trenches, but vehicles were out in the open with no efforts made to construct defensive berms or lay out camouflage netting. It was a thoroughly unsettling thing to take in but our comments to the Saudis were politely dismissed, saying that they would be taken care of later on. Besides, they said, now that we Americans were here we could simply blast the Iraqis with our B-52 bombers should they decide to appear. An attempt to explain that we had no B-52s available to call upon was met with similar hand waving, and we settled into silence for the rest of the ride in.
The Saudi National Guard had set up a command post inside the town’s police station. We were directed to meet with the local National Guard commander, Colonel Turki Al Firmi, an enormous man in both body and ego. Colonel Turki greeted us warmly, hugging everyone on the team and declaring how happy he was to see Americans finally joining the fight. He seemed more aware of the imminent threat to the area but, like the soldiers we had met at the airport, also seemed obsessed that our B-52s would swoop in to save the day should Saddam try anything. Again we explained that for the near future we would only be able to call upon F-15s for support, and this seemed to sober him somewhat. We briefly discussed the defensive layout of the Saudi forces and took down their positions on our maps for reference. It certainly wouldn’t do to drop our ordnance on friendlies, especially at a time when friendlies were so few on the ground. The colonel assigned one of his captains to serve as our liaison during our time there, a man named Nassan that was as thin as Turki was corpulent. Captain Nassan was unlike his fellow Guardsmen in that he was quiet and reserved; and was visibly nervous during our meeting with the colonel. Following a few more minutes of the colonel expounding on how Hafar Al Batin would become the graveyard for the Republican Guard, we were dismissed and led out to a waiting jeep reserved for our use in getting around town.
The town consisted of buildings no higher than two stories, but Nassan had been assigned to the area long enough to recommend an observation post on the roof of an auto garage situated at the northeast edge of town. It didn’t take us long to move in and set up shop, test our comms gear and place observation scopes covering the northern horizon. We were as ready as we could be by 1830 hours, with the sun swiftly settling to the west. We counted ourselves fortunate that our arrival had nicely coincided with nightfall and a relative cooling off in temperature from the searing desert heat. We had set up an improvised tent roof from a roll of sack burlap over the post, but no one was particularly looking forward to roasting on the roof the following day. We divvied up watches for the night, with Boomer and Lucky taking first watch. Greenhorn and I did our best to make ourselves comfortable downstairs in the abandoned garage, swapping packs from our MREs and cleaning our weapons one last time before trying to get some sleep. There was an ancient air conditioning unit that made things marginally better inside the building, and we sacked out as close to it as we could.
We were woken up just before 2200 hours by Captain Nassan, who informed us that Saudi scouts to the north were picking up noise, a lot of it. We threw on our gear and dashed up the concrete stairs to the roof, emerging into the still stifling night air. Even as we approached the other two huddled behind the waist-high wall running along the roof’s edge, I could make out a faint, constant squeaking coming from the darkness to the north. It sounded like someone out there was pushing a fleet of old shopping carts down Highway 50. Lucky was sweeping a night vision scope back and forth, but still couldn’t see anything on the green display. Boomer was already on the comm unit informing Al Kharj that we had noise and possible contacts to our north. HQ told us to sit tight and that help was on the way, with birds available on the scene for support within the next hour. Until then, it was just the four of us and the Saudi captain on a rooftop listening to the sounds of an invasion in progress. No amount of training can prepare you fully for the ordeal of waiting and listening to something in the darkness that could very easily kill you and had every intention of doing so if possible. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution still couldn’t completely shut down the hardwired instinct of our caveman ancestors that darkness invariably equaled bad things, a lesson that was proving very true on the night of March 4th.
By 2300 the persistent squeaking had increased in volume to completely dominate the ambient noises of the town and the surrounding desert landscape, with a metallic clanking joining the chorus. Everyone on the roof was thoroughly on edge by this point and irritated by the unceasing sound. Our eyes were dry and strained from scanning the horizon to no avail. Someone joked that maybe the Iraqis just planned to drive around the city in circles until everyone inside went nuts. At 2314 we heard a high pitched whine amid the sounds of the inbound Iraqis, and saw a pair of pickup trucks high-tailing it south along the main highway into town. With their headlights on high and burning into the night, we concluded it had to be either some of the Saudi scouts or completely insane Iraqi skirmishers. The trucks made it into town without incident and we soon lost them among the cluster of low lying buildings. It made for an interesting break in the tension so far, and we joked that they were on their way to Riyadh to report personally to the King. Nassan didn’t seem overly amused and scowled briefly at us before going back to his radio, keeping Colonel Turki apprised of the situation to our front.
Lucky spotted the first enemy vehicles at 2319, dark squat shapes against the green of the night vision rising from what appeared to be a shallow depression in the desert sand. He immediately started calling range and position to Boomer, who was double checking the map grid and relaying the information to the Eagles arriving high above the battlefield and stacking up, waiting for the word to drop their ordnance. For the moment we were just keeping them updated on the position of the oncoming forces; Colonel Turki had informed us during the meeting at the command post earlier that the Saudis were going to draw the Iraqi armor close to the town and its defensive positions before ambushing them point blank, hopefully wiping out the lead elements of the column and throwing the enemy into confusion while artillery and air strikes could work them over. It had seemed a decent enough plan given the situation and the gross disparity in forces, but now with what seemed to be every goddamn tank in the Iraqi arsenal hurtling towards us out of the darkness, I listened to Nassan’s rapid-fire Arabic conversation with the colonel over the radio and wondered just how close they wanted them to get, as the Iraqis were sooner or later bound to open fire anyway.
The whole thing instantly became moot when some idiot in the trench line to our east lost their nerve and started blasting into the night with their rifle. I don’t know what they were hoping to achieve against tank armor a foot thick, but they unloaded their entire clip without stopping. For a few precious seconds after the rifle went dry, it seemed like complete silence reigned over the town, the Saudis trying to figure out what happened now and the Iraqis pausing in bemused wonder. And then the enemy opened up with everything they had. There was literally a sheet of machine gun fire glowing with green tracers along the entire northern front, not particularly targeted at anything but all aimed south at us. For a moment, I was reminded of the laser light shows at the planetarium when I was a kid and almost laughed at the thought of Iraqi death lasers. The green death sheet continued for several more seconds before tapering off, chewing into the sand and plastered walls of unfortunate buildings at the edge of town. The tanks and armored personnel carriers had continued rolling forward during the exchange, which was something I was very much against. Now that the Saudis and Iraqis had both said their piece, it was our turn to speak up.
A final exchange between Boomer and the pilot on the other end of the comm brought a fantastically welcome shrieking sound from the heavens. The Eagle made his initial attack run west-to-east, dropping cluster bombs textbook perfect on top of a group of enemy vehicles closest to our position. A line of white fire split open the darkness, obliterating the night and the enemy in a rapid boom-boom-boom of destruction. As a line of fireballs rose into the night sky, we could make out far too many vehicles behind and to the sides, adjusting their course to get around the carnage. Flames flickering in the dark cast demonic shadows from the tanks, black steel beasts of destruction still advancing on us despite our opening salvo. Battle was being joined all along the line, with the Saudis and Iraqis exchanging machine gun fire, using the flames from the air strike for illumination. Then the Iraqis decided to one-up us with flares and illumination shells, casting a dark red glow over the landscape. The Saudi’s defensive works were clearly visible in the light, and Iraqi artillery and tank shells began landing among the trenches and fox holes north of town. Nassan was screaming into his radio now, making for yet another distraction in the cacophony of battle. We were keeping up our part as well, calling in one air strike after another on the red vehicles spewing their green tracers, much like how Hell would celebrate Christmas. Gouts of flame from Eagles sweeping overhead lit up the battlefield, taking out vehicles in the attack waves five at a time. The only problem was that the Iraqis just kept coming despite the losses, with no sign of an end to the waves of dark machines on the horizon.
By 0040 hours the Iraqis had gotten close enough to the town for our building to start receiving scattered machine gun fire. It didn’t seem like anyone on the other side had noticed us yet; enemy fire was still mostly concentrated on the Saudi defense lines. For all the growing number of funeral pyres of burning enemy vehicles to our north, the Iraqis were taking full advantage of the superiority of numbers and putting some serious hurt on the Saudis. Tanks were rolling over trench lines too narrow to give them much pause for concern, oblivious to anyone they happened to run over in the process. Anti-tank missiles were firing into the attack waves, only to glance off the armor plating and go spinning wildly into the night. The Saudi line was quickly falling apart, and the defending vehicles that weren’t burning were pulling out to race back into town and the relative safety of the streets. Right below us, a group of Saudis packed into a pickup zipped by, firing a machine gun wildly in the general direction of the enemy as they went.
We had gotten so caught up in our narrow view of the battle that it wasn’t until Nassan started tugging at my arm that we learned of another group of enemy vehicles approaching us from the northwest. Our position was about to become caught in a pincer by the Iraqis, so it was high time we fell back to an alternate location to continue the fight from there. It didn’t take long to pack our equipment and before long we were in Nassan’s jeep and saying goodbye to our temporary garage home. Heading south into town, Nassan kept having to dodge around vehicles and men looking to get out as fast as they could, somehow avoiding several collisions through fate or luck. The streets were an absolute mess with soldiers running around and shouting at each other with no real purpose beyond just appearing to inform each other that the Iraqis were coming and everyone needed to get south. Apparently the defense line north of town had completely collapsed and now officers were trying to organize a backup line within Hafar Al Batin proper.
For several minutes I was fully prepared to declare that we were going to pull out and make tracks for King Khalid Military City, but miraculously the Saudis began to listen to their officers and take up positions in buildings and block off roadways with their personnel carriers. It was immensely relieving to see them manage to pull some semblance of order out of the chaos, and we proceeded to our fallback position in a house overlooking a long park running through the center of town. As we set up our gear for the second time that night, we had an absolutely awe-inspiring sight to take in. Countless fires from burning vehicles were spread out all the way to the horizon, much of it our proud handiwork. Illumination flares were still rising over the town and casting harsh red shadows on the rooftops. Columns of smoke were billowing up from several buildings at the northern edge of town, and the crack of automatic rifle fire echoed down the city streets. It was war in the truest sense, the kind we had been trained for and practiced at for years, and now unfolding around us in a beautiful, terrible panoply of destruction and bloodshed.
For the next few hours we continued calling in strikes on the enemy, establishing a pattern of spot-call-kill-confirm repeated ad nauseum. For every vehicle we torched, six more appeared behind it. It was a thoroughly discouraging pattern, but so long as we had birds flying cover and the Saudis held, we were fully set on taking out every last Iraqi tank we could. We knew it couldn’t last forever, but for a time we were caught up in the excitement of battle and started to tell ourselves that we could actually pull this off. The Iraqis were going to run out of tanks eventually, and if we were still standing when the last enemy dropped, then that was victory in the best sense.
Sadly, reality decided to set in sometime around 0620 hours. For understandable reasons, the Iraqis were keen on avoiding our planes and the coming of dawn would make missions against the columns all too easy. Scattered units had probed into the northeast part of town over the last couple hours, but with the lightening sky to the east they made a committed and concentrated effort to break into the city. Tanks and personnel carriers were rumbling down city streets firing wildly into the windows and roofs of buildings around them in an effort to stop snipers. When faced with the Saudi vehicle barricades, some tanks sought out alternate paths on side streets while others just sped up and plowed into the armored cars, ramming them to the side in screeches of torn and twisted metal. Opposing forces were running into each other as they turned corners, with the battle devolving into hundreds of private duels between soldiers, tanks and armored cars among the narrow streets.
By 0655, it had become nearly impossible for us to bring in any more air strikes on the enemy. Iraqi forces were well into the city and command was worried about potential blue on blue incidents given the chaotic nature of the engagement. When the first T-72 clanked by our building at 0705, we decided there was nothing more we could do and swiftly pulled up stakes to bug out. As we were about to exit out the back door to Nassan’s waiting jeep, a shell from what was probably a tank slammed into the building. The structure shook but ultimately held, though we were blind in the cloud of dust for several nerve-wracking seconds until we stumbled out choking into the alleyway. And found ourselves staring at a surprised Iraqi standing half out of the hatch on a BMP-2 less than 50 yards away where the alley met a larger street.
Greenhorn and I immediately brought up our rifles and fired off a burst of suppressive shots, forcing the Iraqi to duck back down into his vehicle as we dashed back into the house we had vacated only seconds before. Deciding to try our luck back up on the roof, we sped through the dust clouds still circulating inside as coax machine gun fire began thumping into the plaster walls. The houses in this area of town were built extremely close together, and as we emerged once again onto the rooftop we saw that it was only a jump of two feet between our house and the next one. We worked our way down the block in this fashion, leaping between the buildings and surrounded by smoke and the sounds of a city coming apart all around us. We kept as out of view of the streets below as possible, but ricocheting bullets and bits of plaster flew by us several times along the way.
Upon reaching the end of the block, we leaned over for a quick scan of the street to find it thankfully clear and broke open the door leading down to the ground floor. We moved quickly through a home that looked like it had been evacuated mid-meal, with plates of half-eaten food sitting forgotten on the table. Emerging out into the street, we could see a column of smoke rising somewhere to our left and heard scattered rifle fire, but we were otherwise alone for the moment. Lucky smashed the window of a parked van nearby and set about trying to hotwire it while we provided cover, knowing that Iraqi tanks could appear at any moment. While I scanned the street to our west, I noticed that the left sleeve of my uniform was stained a dull brown. At some point during our escape I had apparently taken a graze from some shrapnel. I was too pumped up on adrenaline at the time to notice, but I wasn’t feeling any pain nor did it seem deep enough to lose sleep over. The sound of the van’s engine coming to life was one of the most heavenly things I had ever heard, and it only took a moment for everyone to throw their gear into the back and pile in. Boomer busted out the rear window to give us a better line of fire should we need it, and we pulled out onto the road as fast as the van’s engine allowed. Nassan was beside me in the second row of passenger seats and kept muttering the same phrase in Arabic to himself over and over as he scanned the passing streets and alleyways. We avoided taking Highway 50 through town until the last possible moment, opting instead to work our way through along the side streets. As our commandeered van joined the ranks of a massive convoy of Saudi vehicles speeding south along the desert highway, we kept watch on the smoking buildings of Hafar Al Batin swiftly, and thankfully, disappearing to our rear.
Excerpt from Mother of All Battles: A New History of the Arabian War
By Simon Anderson Naval Institute Press 1995
The President’s Guests
The fallout from the Battles of Jubayl and Hafar Al Batin was immediate on both a domestic and international level for the Saudis. While their newspapers and television reports were trumpeting a great victory against the Iraqis that had stopped their invasion, word was spreading fast among the populace of the disaster that had transpired. In actuality, only the poor state of Iraqi logistics had spared the kingdom from further damage, and it was merely a matter of time before the Republican Guard resupplied sufficiently for a renewed push on Dhahran and Riyadh. Evidence suggests that had the order to retreat no further not been made, the Iraqi columns would have reached the end of their supply lines by the end of March 6. This would have in all probability put Iraqi troops at the northern edge of Dhahran and the ongoing American buildup; in fact some have argued that the Battle of Jubayl was a necessary sacrifice that burned through enough Iraqi fuel and ammunition to prevent a confrontation and potential annihilation of the fragile U.S. ground presence in early March 1991. This explanation, while technically true, fails to account for the true reasoning behind King Fahd’s orders. American lives were hardly the reason for the Saudi decision to fight back; it was merely a sense of damaged honor and reputation that had to be salvaged by any means necessary. As guardians of the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina, the Al Saud family was intensely aware of the pressure of maintaining a strong and courageous image to the populace and their surrounding neighbors. Others have argued that in the interests of preserving their own self-image, the Al Sauds needlessly threw away the lives of hundreds in the Saudi armed forces only to throw the position of the kingdom and its allies into jeopardy. This point is also suspect since at the time of the initial invasion there were no guarantees on when or if the Iraqis would stop in their advance. CENTCOM had estimated during planning that it would take Iraqi tanks three days to reach Riyadh from the Kuwaiti border. It is certainly true that the Saudi royal family and King Fahd especially felt a deep conviction to present the kingdom as a strong and worthy defender of Islam’s holy sites, but it is also true that despite the assurances of forthcoming help from its allies, Saudi Arabia saw very little concrete contributions to resist the unstoppable Iraqi/Yemeni armored juggernaut and did the best with what it had available. The decision on whether to fight and the consequences it had on the kingdom are still debated hotly to this day and will probably continue for many years to come.
While the Saudi government attempted to downplay the massive casualties from the battles on March 5 and the consequent near total destruction of Group North as a viable defense force, word had spread quickly enough that March 6 and 7 saw anti-government demonstrations in Riyadh, with protestors shouting slogans like ‘King Fahd, end this war now’ and ‘No more lost husbands and sons’. Though the protests were dispersed by Saudi police, it showed a growing element of the populace that wanted the government to arrive at a settlement and make peace with the Iraqi/Yemeni forces before the country was overrun. Within the royal palaces, officially the Al Saud family presented a unified front of defiance and intent to resist the invasions at all costs, but in private there was growing dissention with the war’s progress. Many remained loyal to the King, but an increasing number of royals outside the immediate Sudairi Seven alliance of brothers began wondering if Fahd’s handling of the defense effort was the only viable solution. Behind closed doors, princes began debating possible options ranging from paying off the enemy to giving them access rights to some of the oil fields to making territorial concessions. While losing Saudi Arabia was not an option for the Al Saud family, the idea of sacrificing some of it to ensure the survival of the rest was an idea with considerable attraction. While these closed-door mutterings of dissent quieted somewhat with the halt of the Iraqi advance, the general situation as well as events unfolding in the south continued to bring strife and second guessing to the royals, which in turn began to spread unease among the Saudi government and military.
The mindset for the citizens of Saudi Arabia ranged from anxiety to panic with the news of the developments in the north. Though the Saudi government was making a big show of appearing calm and in control of the situation, from the viewpoint of the man on the street the kingdom seemed mere days away from collapse. Families began hoarding food, water, and fuel, and started fortifying their residences with whatever materials were available. For foreign workers still in the unoccupied zones, the primary goal became leaving the country by any means necessary. Airports, highways, and ports were swiftly overwhelmed with lines of vehicles stretching for miles in some areas. On March 6, a car attempting to gain passage on a ferry across the Red Sea to Egypt could expect an average waiting time of 3-4 days before being allowed to board. The swamping of these facilities placed yet another obstacle on allied forces attempting to bring in reinforcements, and it became an immensely complex endeavor to maintain a workable timetable of allowing troops and their equipment in and letting refugees out.
Far to the south of the political intrigue and maneuvering in Riyadh, the early hours of March 6 began with a full Yemeni assault towards Saudi defenses in Khamis Mushait. Having decided that he could not afford to wait for General Attas’ western column and that his forces were sufficient for the task at hand, General Hayyan ordered an artillery barrage at 0300 hours and a general advance towards the city at 0400. His plan called for the mechanized infantry brigade to make a frontal attack and tie up the defenders while the armored brigade swung to the east, seizing the King Khalid air base and flanking the defense line in the process. They would be facing a Saudi Army mechanized infantry brigade as well as a battalion of artillery and elements of the National Guard. The attack was not without risk, but any delay would bring an increasing chance of enemy jet fighters and bombers to defend the area, and Hayyan had little confidence in the ability of the Mig-17s assigned for his CAS to repel them, much less survive.
Things began to go wrong from the start. The planned artillery attack was forced to break off earlier than expected when most of the 105mm towed field howitzers burned through the ammunition they had immediately available within the first thirty minutes. Resupply trucks had been trying to keep pace with the speedy advance through the mountains, but the lack of available roads meant that a significant amount of the column’s ammunition was still working its way to the front. What was supposed to be an hour long devastating barrage followed by a swift assault onto the stunned defenders became an intense attack on the defenses that began to slacken and ended entirely by 0336 hours, giving the defenders sufficient time to regroup. The ground attack went forward on time, but the mechanized infantry brigade bogged down after only advancing a few blocks into the southern edge of Khamis Mushait. By 0500 it had become a stalemate, with units trading desultory fire at each other along the city streets. The armored attack to the east did well initially, taking the air base by 0445 and reaching the Highway 10 defense line by 0520, but was unable to advance any farther in the face of vicious defensive fire. While the Yemenis were taking few casualties, the refusal of the Saudis to fall back was both confusing and upsetting to troops who had only faced down border guards and local garrisons until this point.
The arrival of dawn brought with it much needed air support from two Mig-17 squadrons who bombed and strafed the city with little regard to collateral damage. With their assistance, the mechanized infantry were able to advance to the highway defenses, taking advantage of a dry river bed that ran through the center of town. While the Migs were swiftly chased off by Saudi F-15s and failed to reappear after mid-morning, by midday the Yemenis were in control of southern Khamis Mushait, with the highway serving as the front line between forces exchanging mortars and machine gun fire across the paved asphalt. Little progress was made throughout the rest of the day, with gains being measured by blocks and sometimes buildings. By nightfall any fighting spirit from the Yemenis had vanished and both sides spent the night hours trading sniper fire and the occasional mortar round.
To the southwest, General Attas’ column spent March 6 continuing their journey north, brushing aside the frequent convoys of refugees and keeping a watch on the skies above. The Saudi Air Force launched attacks on four occasions throughout the day, inflicting losses on the column but failing to slow the overall advance. Cover from the Su-20s was sporadic and was only available to engage one of the attacks, with another F-15 and Su-20 lost by its conclusion. Attas was in sight of the town of Ad Darb shortly after 0800, with a sharp engagement between Yemeni and Saudi National Guard skirmishers before the defenders fell back into the town. After halting two hours to regroup, Yemeni forces took Ad Darb in a night assault with Saudi forces fleeing north to Abha and along to coast to escape. Satisfied with his first real victory over the Saudis and the effective conquest of the Jazan province, Attas spent the night of March 6/7 gathering his forces around Ad Darb in preparation for a renewed advance in the morning.
Offshore, following the raid from the Independence, the Bab el Mendab Strait was eerily desolate throughout March 6. There was still a visible haze of smoke along the Yemeni coast from the air strikes, but allied aerial reconnaissance flights were observing movement around the bombed sites. The Yemeni army appeared to be pulling its remaining forces inland, but whether they were abandoning the blockade altogether or simply regrouping was ultimately unclear. In a series of phone calls and meetings between CENTCOM and the Saudi and Egyptian militaries, it was decided to organize and send an allied task force down the Red Sea to test Yemen’s resolve and begin the process of clearing the strait with minesweepers.
In Baghdad, President Saddam Hussein was decidedly unhappy with the progress of the campaign. Iraqi operational plans had called for the army to be in possession of King Khalid Military City and Dhahran by the close of Phase I and the need to pause to regroup and resupply. The allies still had control of Dhahran’s facilities and the American forces there continued to grow with each passing day. Advisers and his top generals were more optimistic; Iraq was in full control of Kuwait and a large portion of northeast Saudi Arabia, including the majority of the region’s major oil fields. Saudi forces in the north had been removed as a threat for the near future, and while there was an increasing risk from Western jet fighters in the area, allied forces were in no condition to defend against a renewed push anytime soon, much less launch a counter-attack. Optimistic estimates for a new advance against King Khalid, Dhahran and Riyadh were at least three weeks, though more conservative estimates ranged from one to two months needed. In the meantime, Iraq needed to focus on what it could do with what it had. Orders were made to bring up artillery and SSM units to harass allied forces along the northern front and to finish preparing airbases in the area to receive fighters which would greatly increase Iraq’s air coverage for the ground forces. Air defense systems would be brought south as well to provide an umbrella of protection and would help create an impenetrable defense upon which the Westerners and their fighters would break should they try anything.
The mobilization of Iraq’s neighbors was a more troubling development, but ultimately one expected by the planners. Armies were beginning to take up position along the Syrian, Turkish and Iranian borders, forcing Iraq’s military to shuffle divisions about the country to meet these potential threats. While planners were mostly confident that the deployments were simply a show of force, Iraq could not afford to ignore them for fear of a second front opening at some point. To help counter this, Saddam unleashed one of the greatest weapons in his arsenal: hungry mouths to feed. As Iraqi troops were busy constructing defensive positions along the Saudi front, Iraq opened its borders to outgoing traffic on March 6, unleashing a horde of refugees upon its neighbors. Iraq and Kuwait had been home to an estimated three million foreign workers from 130 different countries, and with the outbreak of war in the Middle East the vast majority wanted nothing more than to escape home. Iraq had closed its borders early on March 1, and the sudden reversal took its neighbors completely by surprise. Units along the border refused to allow the refugee columns to cross at first, but finally gave in as masses began to pile up opposite the border posts. Many had arrived with little more than a suitcase to their name, and the Red Cross and Red Crescent were called in to help set up refugee camps and try to prevent a growing humanitarian crisis from getting any worse. Local airports were unable to cope with the sudden influx of passengers, and it fell to the International Organization for Migration to try and sort out the refugees and get them home. On March 6 alone, some 95,000 people fled Iraq, Kuwait, and occupied Saudi Arabia into the surrounding countries of the Middle East, a number that would continue to grow in the coming days. Hidden within these groups were Iraqi and Palestinian agents tasked with various objectives, among them the need to determine the location and disposition of allied forces in the region.
Not everyone was allowed to take advantage of Iraq’s sudden generosity however. While the allies worked to sort and shelter the immense number of refugees, what immediately escaped their notice was that for the past several days Iraqi secret police had been arresting hundreds of foreigners from declared ‘nations of aggressive intentions against the Iraqi people’. Nationals from the United States, Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy, and Japan found themselves rounded up in the dead of night and transported to a number of locations throughout Iraq deemed strategically valuable. In all, thousands would eventually be held to serve as potential human shields for the Iraqi regime. While Western governments were loathe to use the word ‘hostages’ in their announcements, Iraq was playing another card to protect itself and its conquests while it began coiling for the next strike.
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