Today's Reading Assignments...

...from the opinion pages of the New York Post. In his column on the Fort Hood massacre, Ralph Peters (a retired Army Lieutenant Colonel) says call the attack what it was--an act of Islamic terror. He also takes the Army chain-of-command to task, for ignoring obvious warning signs, and allowing the shooter, Major Nidal Hasan, to remain in service.

But Hasan isn't the sole guilty party. The US Army's unforgivable political correctness is also to blame for the casualties at Fort Hood.

Given the myriad warning signs, it's appalling that no action was taken against a man apparently known to praise suicide bombers and openly damn US policy. But no officer in his chain of command, either at Walter Reed Army Medical Center or at Fort Hood, had the guts to take meaningful action against a dysfunctional soldier and an incompetent doctor.

Had Hasan been a Lutheran or a Methodist, he would've been gone with the simoom. But officers fear charges of discrimination when faced with misconduct among protected minorities.

[snip]

For the first time since I joined the Army in 1976, I'm ashamed of its dereliction of duty. The chain of command protected a budding terrorist who was waving one red flag after another. Because it was safer for careers than doing something about him.

Get ready for the apologias. We've already heard from the terrorist's family that "he's a good American." In their world, maybe he is.

But when do we, the American public, knock off the PC nonsense?

In another piece from today's paper, Paul Sperry offers similar thoughts, noting that the military (essentially) refuses to see extremists in its midst.

So, how will the Army handle this scandal, with obvious culpability at both Walter Reed and Fort Hood? Look for the service to hand out administrative punishment to a couple of Colonels--and ignore the larger problem.

Making the Tough Calls

As the Army searches for answers in the Fort Hood massacre, one fact has become painfully obvious--Major Nidal Hasan, the military psychiatrist who killed 13 of his fellow soldiers and wounded 30 more--exhibited troubling behavior long before embarking on that murderous rampage.

But, as far as we can tell, no one in Hasan's chain-of-command bothered to follow up on his vociferous opposition to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and written comments that suicide bombers might be considered heroes--in the same vein as American soldiers who sacrifice their lives for those of their comrades.

According to various press accounts, Hasan entered the military in 1999, when he was accepted as a student at the Uniformed Services University of Health Sciences (USUHS), the only medical school in the armed forces. Entrance into the program required that Hasan be commissioned as a Second Lieutenant in a branch of the military (he chose the Army). One requirement for commissioning was a background check, required for his security clearance.

As part of that process, Hasan was required to fill out a Standard Form 86 (SF-86), the standard document used by all applicants seeking a clearance. For access to SECRET information (the clearance held by most military physicians), Hasan had to provide personal data for the previous five years, including addresses, schools attended and employers.

Information provided on that form was then checked against data in databases maintained by the FBI and local law enforcement. Inconsistencies between the SF-86 and the background checks would result in detailed questioning by the Defense Investigative Service. Failure to reconcile those issues would result in denial of a security clearance--and commissioning as a military officer.

To be fair, there probably wasn't anything on the original SF-86 (or the background check) that would raise red flags with investigators. Hasan was a native-born American; the son of Palestinian emigres from Jordan. He attended three colleges in before finally graduating from Virginia Tech with a degree in biochemistry. A fairly standard resume for a medical student, although his peripatetic academic career might prompt a few questions, along with his age. Hasan was 29 when he entered the military medical school, a bit older than many of his classmates.

Still, in the days before 9-11, it was probably easy for Hasan to pass the required background checks, gain a security clearance, and admittance to the Hebert School of Medicine at the USUHS. And, with a 10-year window until the next update, Hasan's questionable comments and behavior might not become a security issue until his clearance was up for renewal.

However, access to classified information can be denied long before the individual's clearance comes up for review. Commanders can rescind a military member's clearance for a variety of reasons, including questions about their allegiance to the United States, and perceptions of foreign influence and preference. Hasan's comments and actions in recent years certainly fall into those categories.

Yet, there are no indications that Hasan's superiors at Walter Reed or Fort Hood took any action to suspend or revoke his clearance. True, members of the Medical Corps don't deal with classified material on a regular basis. But the alleged killer completed a fellowship in Disaster and Preventive Psychiatry and participated in at least one forum sponsored by the Department of Homeland Security. That raises new questions about Hasan's potential access to classified data--and why a military doctor with a history of anti-American comments was selected for those programs.

Beyond security issues, there is also the troubling matter of why Hasan's superiors never tried to discipline him for his conduct--or consider removing him from the military. NPR was among the few outlets to report that Major Hasan was suspended (briefly) during his tenure at Walter Reed, for proselytizing about his Muslim faith with colleagues and patients--many of whom were combat veterans from Iraq and Afghanistan, being treated for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

There are also accounts of Hasan engaging in heated debates with colleagues about the Global War on Terrorism, with the psychiatrist supporting anti-U.S. (and anti-military) positions. But that pattern of behavior--dating back several years--did not result in additional disciplinary action, or efforts to end his Army career. Despite his troubles at Walter Reed, Dr. Hasan was promoted to Major earlier this year.

His advancement is even more puzzling, given the fact that officers typically "pin on" their new rank about a 12-18 months after the promotion board meets. That means the panel that selected Hasan for advancement met in 2008, on the heels of his suspension at Walter Reed. Apparently, there wasn't enough in Hasan's personnel folder--including his performance reports--to prevent him from being promoted.

After completing his training (and being transferred to Fort Hood), Hasan's troubling behavior and comments continued. A recently-retired Colonel--who worked with Hasan at the base mental health clinc--told the psychiatrist to "button it" on at least one occasion, after he launched into an anti-war tirade. But there is no indication that Dr. Hasan's immediate supervisor, the hospital commander, or more senior officers at Fort Hood ever conducted a wider investigation into Hasan's views, and their potential impact on post security.

We also know that the alleged killer appeared on the FBI's radar earlier this year, after Hasan posted comments sympathetic to suicide bombers on a website. Because Hasan was an Army officer, there was almost certainly contact between FBI agents and senior officers at Fort Hood, not to mention the service's Criminal Investigation Command. Yet, Dr. Hasan kept seeing patients at the post hospital.

The on-going investigation into the Fort Hood massacre will confirm what many of us already know; Army commanders either missed or ignored obvious warning signs, setting the stage for this week's deadly rampage. But the larger question is why. We don't want to prejudge any inquiry or report, but it's a fair bet that authorities will blame poor coordination and communication between Hasan's superiors at Walter Reed, and those at Fort Hood.

While there is probably an element of truth in that theory, it's also clear that other elements were at play. First, the Army was anxious to recoup its significant investment in Hasan's education and training. After nearly a decade in school, the service expected Dr. Hasan to fulfill his military obligations--and his debt to the taxpayer.

Secondly, the Army was in need of his services, despite Hasan's spotty record as a mental health provider. With thousands of soldiers suffering from PTSD and other psychological disorders, the service needs all the psychiatrists, psychologists and counselors it can muster. We're guessing there was pressure to keep Hasan on the job, so the busy Fort Hood clinic wouldn't wind up being a "doctor short."

Finally, there's the ugly specter of political correctness as a factor in this equation. We've seen military commanders who are reluctant to punish minority military members, for fear of receiving discrimination complaints. Others buy into the "diversity celebration" business and are hesitant to remove a minority officer, lest they upset the demographic balance.

When we first heard about Hasan and his "record," we thought back to some pearls of wisdom from Chief Buddy, one of the legendary "first shirts" and senior enlisted advisors in recent Air Force history. The Chief had absolutely no tolerance for sub-standard performers or individuals who couldn't adapt to military life. JAGs at his various duty bases dreaded phone calls or visits from the chief, knowing that he was getting rid of another slacker, which meant more work for the legal folks.

But a senior JAG also paid him the ultimate compliment, saying "Chief, you never made a bad call." Today's military needs more leaders like that Chief Master Sergeant, individuals who are willing to make the tough decisions to preserve the integrity and yes, the security of our armed forces.

Nidal Hasan never belonged in the U.S. Army; his comments and actions in recent years only affirmed that suspicion. And, if someone at Walter Reed or Fort Hood had been willing to ignore expediency and make the tough (but correct) call, this week's carnage could have been easily prevented.

Details Emerge

As the Fort Hood community deals with the horror of today's mass murder at the Texas base, details are beginning to emerge about the alleged killer, Army Major Nidal M. Hasan.

A psychiatrist assigned to the Darnall Army Medical Center at Fort Hood, Hasan had been assigned to the post since 2007, when he completed training at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C.

In fact, all of Hasan's medical training was provided by the U.S. military. According to a provider database maintained by the state of Virginia (where he was licensed), Hasan earned his medical degree from the F. Edward Hebert School of Medicine at the Uniformed Services University of the Health Sciences (USUHS). Located in Bethesda, Maryland, the university operates the only medical school in the U.S. military.

After earning his M.D. degree, Hasan moved on to Walter Reed for a four-year residency in psychiatry. The Virginia medical database also indicates that Hasan completed a fellowship in Disaster and Preventive Psychiatry at Walter Reed earlier this year.

According to his professional profile, listed on the website, Hasan saw patients at Fort Hood five days a week, and spent "90% of his time" at the installation. The profile also reported that Hasan had been in clinical practice for "less than a year" at the time the website was updated last month.

There were no reports of past disciplinary action against Hasan, according to the database. He was licensed to practice medicine in Virginia 2005 and his license was up for renewal next year.

However, sources tell the Associated Press that Hasan received a poor performance evaluation during his time at Walter Reed. Despite that, he completed his residency on schedule, was transferred to Fort Hood, and promoted to Major in May of this year.

Various media outlets report that Hasan was "upset" about his deployment to Iraq, scheduled for later this month.

Using two handguns, Hasan opened fire around 1:30 p.m. today, targeting soldiers at a readiness center on the western side of the sprawling base. A Fort Hood spokesman said soldiers "cycle through" the facility as they prepare to deploy. It's unclear if Hasan was participating in pre-deployment processing when he opened fire, killing 12 soldiers and civilians before being shot by a security guard.

Two other soldiers were taken into custody shortly after the shooting but were later released, according to Republican Congressman John Carter, whose Texas district includes Fort Hood.

Some reports suggested the Hasan was a convert to Islam, but that was not immediately confirmed. Hasan was a U.S. citizen. Students at the USUHS are required to be citizens before graduation, so they can be commissioned as military officers.
***
UPDATE: 11:00 p.m. EST. The commanding general at Fort Hood now says that Hasan did not die in the shootout. Though he was hit multiple times, the gunman somehow survied and is hospitalized in stable condition. Looks like death row at Leavenworth will be getting a new senior ranking officer in the near future. On a happier note, the civilian security guard who first engaged Hasan also survived. That lady deserves a medal, a pay raise, or both.

We've also noted that the post-shooting spin has already begun, with various "experts" offering possible explanations for Hasan's murderous rampage. At least one pundit suggests the shooter was feeling the effects of "second-hand PTSD," caused by being around those who experience the condition first-hand. And predictably enough, a member of Hasan's family claims the Major experienced "anti-Muslim" discrimination in the Army. But apparently, the discrimination wasn't enough to deny him a decade of taxpayer-funded education and a commission as an Army officer--and not to mention his recent promotion to field-grade rank.

One Year From Now

As they digest results from yesterday's off-off year elections, pundits of all stripes are weighing in on 2010. And depending on your point-of-view, yesterday's returns in Virginia, New Jersey and upstate New York can be interpreted as:

(A) The resurgence of conservatism in the Republican Party.
(B) A major defeat for the policies of President Obama, especially his national health care scheme.
(C) A failure by Democrats to run electable candidates in the Garden State and the Old Dominion.
(D) A rebellion by the electorate, fed up with escalating taxes, skyrocketing government spending and a sour economy.
(E) The inability of the New York--and national--GOP establishment to come together behind a conservative candidate in an upstate district that's been controlled by Republicans for more than a century.
(F) All the above.

As for what this portends for next year, well, the 2010 elections are still a long way off. In the wake of Obama's victory last year, few would have predicted that a Republican would win the governor's race in newly-"purple" Virginia by almost 20 points, and take most of the GOP ticket with him.

Indeed, this time last year, a lot of supposedly "smart" people in the state had their eye on Terry McAuliffe, the former DNC chair who was preparing to open his fat checkbook and buy the Democratic nomination for governor. Everyone assumed the Bob McDonnell would be the Republican nominee, but in the wake of the party's disastrous 2008 showing, there were real questions about GOP unity and its ability to match McAuliffe's unlimited personal resources.

Obviously, the smart people were wrong.

So, what's in the crystal ball for 2010? Conventional wisdom--and two centuries of electoral results--suggest that the party in control of the White House will lose seats in the House and Senate. The exact number depends on a myriad of factors, ranging from the economy, to the quality of candidates (and their challengers) and their ability to raise money.

But let's throw one more variable into the mix. It's an issue that didn't even register at the ballot box yesterday, but it could be the overriding factor a year from now.

We refer, of course, to a conflict with Iran.

While largely ignored by the mainstream media (and de-emphasized by the White House), the Iranian "problem" continues to fester. Since late summer, we've learned that Iran has built a second uranium enrichment facility, renewing concerns about a possible, parallel covert nuclear development effort--and how soon Tehran might have the bomb. When confronted with that evidence, the Iranians hemmed and hawed, then "agreed" to ship much of their yellowcake out of the country for enrichment.

However, that deal lasted only a few days. Tehran promptly reneged on its promise, leaving the much-hailed, multi-lateral nuclear talks at something of an impasse. Meanwhile, western intelligence analysts warn that Iran could have a viable nuclear device within the year.

None of this has been lost on the Israel, which (increasingly) views Iran as a go-it-alone proposition. In last Friday's Wall Street Journal, Yossi Klein Halevi wrote of an Israeli populace bracing itself for war with Iran.

In the last few years, Israelis have been asking themselves two questions with increasing urgency: Should we attack Iran if all other options fail? And can we inflict sufficient damage to justify the consequences?

As sanctions efforts faltered, most Israelis came to answer the first question affirmatively. A key moment in coalescing that resolve occurred in December 2006, when the Iranian regime sponsored an "International Conference to Review the Global Vision of the Holocaust," a two day meeting of Holocaust deniers. For Israelis, that event ended the debate over whether a nuclear Iran could be deterred by the threat of counter-force. A regime that assembles the world's crackpots to deny the most documented atrocity in history—at the very moment it is trying to fend off sanctions and convince the international community of its sanity—may well be immune to rational self-interest.

Opinion here has been divided about the ability of an Israeli strike to significantly delay Iran's nuclear program. But Israelis have dealt with their doubts by resurrecting a phrase from the country's early years: Ein breira, there's no choice. Besides, as one leading Israeli security official who has been involved in the Iranian issue for many years put it to me, "Technical problems have technical solutions." Israelis tend to trust their strategic planners to find those solutions.

Mr. Klein Halevi also notes that Israelis have largely lost confidence in the U.S.'s ability to halt Iran's nuclear program and ensure their national security. That perception, coupled with Tehran's steady progress in its nuclear program, reinforces the notion that Israel must strike--and soon.

The exact timing for such an attack would depend on several variables. First, Israel must have some assurance that the strike would deliver a crippling blow, setting back the Iranian program by at least several years. Additionally, Israeli military planners would prefer to launch a raid before Iran acquires a state-of-the-art air defense system, like the Russian S-300. Rumors of a possible S-300 sale to Tehran have been a staple in defense circles for years. While those reports have not panned out (yet), it's probably just a matter of time before advanced Russian anti-aircraft missiles arrive in Iran, greatly complicating Israeli attack planning.

Those criteria suggest the early months of 2010 would be the most likely time for an Israeli strike. Beyond that window, Iran will either have a bomb, or dispersed key elements of its nuclear program, reducing the effectiveness of a possible attack by the Israeli Air Force. The longer timeline also gives Tehran more time to acquire (and deploy) the S-300, posing a major threat to Israel's operational planning.

How exactly does this fit into our domestic political equation? With his preoccupation with health care and tax-and-trade, Mr. Obama has largely ignored the Iranian issue. So far, the President has invested all of his efforts in diplomacy, hoping we can "talk" Tehran out of its nuclear ambitions. Good luck with that one.

Meanwhile, the centrifuges at Natanz keep spinning and the Israelis keep watching. At some point, early in the New Year, an IAF strike package will head east, and the conflict with Iran will begin. And Mr. Obama's response will become the defining moment of his presidency.

What should we expect? No one can say with any certainty, but this is the same president who can't make up his mind on a troop increase in Afghanistan, despite deteriorating conditions there. According to White House Press Secretary Robert Gibbs, a final decision in that matter is still "weeks away." And the conflict in that country doesn't have the capacity to escalate past the nuclear thresh hold in a matter of minutes.

Clearly, "decisive action" by Mr. Obama would go a long way in bringing the crisis to a successful resolution. Incidentally, we define that phrase in terms of (a) unqualified support for Israel; (b) the use of U.S. ISR and missile defense systems to defend Israel as required, and (c) a massive American response to any Iranian attack against our military forces--or our allies--in the Middle East.

That sort of stand would also help Obama's political standing (and that of his party) heading into the 2010 elections. Make no mistake; the consequences of a war between Israel and Iran would be felt far beyond the region. Get ready for oil at $300 a barrel--or higher--and rising prices for just about everything else, to boot. The economic consequences of the conflict would likely drive the U.S. (and other western economies) from a deep recession, into a full-blown depression.

But voters might be willing for forget about some of that pain, provided the President responds effectively, and lays out a clear vision for stopping Iran, once and for all. But that sort of response isn't Mr. Obama's stock-in-trade. In fact, his indecisiveness is actually making various situations worse.

So imagine if you will, a sudden Israeli strike against Iran's nuclear facilities. Tehran and its terrorist allies respond with all-out missile strikes on Israeli population centers, using chemical and biological weapons. Massive civilian casualties prompt Tel Aviv to respond with a nuclear strike, using long-range Jericho II missiles. The entire region plunges into war; the Strait of Hormuz is closed (at least temporarily) and oil prices head to stratospheric levels.

That is likely to be the backdrop for next year's elections. If Mr. Obama doesn't take dramatic action (diplomatically and militarily) he will be blamed for the coming catastrophe in the Middle East. And his party will pay a staggering political price.

That Makes Two

For the second time in less than a month, an Air Force wing commander has been fired at Minot AFB, North Dakota.

Air Force Times reports that Colonel Joel Westa, Commander of the base's 5th Bomb Wing, was relieved of his post on Friday afternoon, after senior officials "lost confidence" in his ability to lead.

Westa was dismissed by Major General Floyd L. Carpenter, Commander of 8th Air Force, headquartered at Barksdale AFB, Louisiana. Eighth Air Force is in charge of all USAF strategic bomber units, including the B-52 wing at Minot.

Westa, a master navigator, lost of the confidence of Carpenter because of his “inability to foster a culture of excellence, a lack of focus on the strategic mission … and substandard performance during several nuclear surety inspections (NSIs), including the newly activated 69th Bomb Squadron,” according to a statement issued by 8th Air Force.

“Perfection is the standard,” Carpenter said in the statement. “We will continue to demand exacting focus, attention to detail, discipline and dedication to the highest principles and standards for all activities surrounding the nuclear enterprise.”

Westa's firing came just two weeks after the Commander of Minot's 91st Missile Wing, Colonel Christopher Ayers, was dismissed from his post for similar reasons. A spokesman for Air Force Space Command said Ayers' superiors also "lost faith in his ability to command," citing a series of accidents, incidents of misconduct, and a failed nuclear surety inspection during his tenure. The commanders of the wing's maintenance group and missile maintenance squadron were also fired.

Ayers has since been reassigned to the Headquarters of Air Force Space Command, the parent organization for the Air Force's ICBM mission. Space Command is preparing to transfer its missile assets to Global Strike Command, which will oversee both ICBM and nuclear-capable bomber units.

Westa's next assignment has not been determined. Contacted at his home by Air Force Times, he declined comment. Colonel Westa has been replaced at Minot by Colonel Douglas Cox, who previously served as Vice Commander of the 36th Wing at Andersen AB, Guam.

There is no shortage of irony in the circumstances surrounding Westa's departure. It comes almost two years to the day after he arrived at Minot, replacing Colonel Bruce Eming, who was also fired. Emig's dismissal was the result of a highly-publicized incident involving the inadvertent "transfer" of nuclear weapons from Minot to Barksdale AFB, Louisiana.

During that mishap, crews at Minot failed to ensure that nuclear warheads had been removed from cruise missiles, being flown to Barksdale for inactivation. The crew of a Barksdale B-52 (serving as the transfer aircraft) also failed to detect the mistake, which wasn't discovered until hours after the giant bomber landed in Louisiana.

The incident prompted a series of Air Force and Defense Department investigations, which resulted in disciplinary action for dozens of personnel and revised standards for handling, protecting and maintaining nuclear weapons.

Fixing the problems at Minot fell on the shoulders of Colonel Westa, who was Vice Commander of the Andersen wing before being transferred to North Dakota. Shortly after taking the reigns of the 5th Bomb Wing, Westa announced ambitious plans for re-certifying the unit, which had lost its authority to conduct nuclear operations after the transfer debacle. At the time, Colonel Westa confidently predicted that the B-52 wing would regain its nuclear certification by "February 2008."

Almost immediately, that timetable hit a major snag. In mid-December 2007, the 5th Wing underwent an Initial Nuclear Surety Inspection (INSI), in preparation for the NSI that would follow. When the preliminary evaluation ended, both Westa and Minot's Chief of Public Affairs, Major Laurie Arellano, announced that the unit would be "given more time" to get ready for the nuclear surety inspection.

While the Air Force refused to divulge the reason for the extension, sources told In From the Cold the 5th Bomb Wing had received a grade of "Not Ready" on its INSI. While technically not considered a failing mark, the INSI results suggested continuing problems in the nuclear unit, and indicated the wing was not ready for the NSI.

With additional preparation time, the B-52 wing passed its INSI in March of last year. But two months later, it received a failing grade during an NSI from the Defense Threat Reduction Agency, which assists the Air Force in conducting nuclear evaluations. Inspectors from the agency found numerous security discrepancies during the May 2008 evaluation, including sentries who were playing games on their cell phones during the simulated movement of nuclear weapons.

While the 5th Wing earned passing grades in other areas, the security problems were enough to generate a failing score for the overall inspection. That resulted in the dismissal of Lieutenant Colonel John Worley, Commander of Minot's 5th Security Forces Squadron, the unit charged with protecting the base and nuclear assets within its perimeter. Air Force sources told this blog that Worley continued training for a local marathon in the months leading up to the inspection, despite the focus on Minot and its nuclear problems.

The 5th Bomb Wing finally passed all portions of its NSI in August 2008, almost a year after the original "transfer" incident. But problems continued to plague the Minot bomber unit and the co-located missile wing.

For the 91st, there were two major mishaps involving vehicles used to transport nuclear missiles and components. The most recent accident occurred in August, when the driver of a component truck lost control, causing the vehicle to roll onto its side. An Air Force investigation revealed that the driver was trying to remove "a large insect" from his neck at the time of the incident.

Additionally, the 91st failed a nuclear surety inspection during Ayers' tenure as commander, and three officers were disciplined for falling asleep with nuclear launch codes in their possession. In a separate incident, an airman failed to secure a safe containing missile operations procedures. Officials found nothing was missing from the safe.

Still, the cumulative effect of the various incidents caused Air Force Space Command to lose confidence in Ayers, who was fired as the missile wing commander on 14 October.

Colonel Westa also ran into problems after helping the 5th Bomb Wing regain its nuclear certification and pass required inspections. As part of its revised "nuclear roadmap," the Air Force added a second B-52 squadron to Westa's wing, in an effort to provide "operational depth."

The new unit, the 69th Bomb Squadron, was activated less than two months ago, but senior officers were reportedly unhappy with efforts to bring the unit to full operational status. Air Force Times also reported the squadron had difficulties during its first nuclear evaluation, another factor in Westa's dismissal.

Some observers view the firings of Ayers, Westa (and others) as the imposition of badly-needed accountability in the Air Force's nuclear enterprise. But others argue that the new inspections are "almost impossible to pass," given years of inattention to the service's nuclear weapons systems and the personnel who operate and maintain them. Without more money (and training), they warn, the string of recent failures is likely to continue.

Air Force leaders, along with Defense Secretary Robert Gates, have promised to provide the required resources. But meeting that commitment may prove difficult, if not impossible. The Obama Administration is planning massive cuts in the nation's nuclear stockpile. Against that backdrop, the Pentagon may be hard-pressed to furnish the training and acquisition funds needed to rebuild our nuclear arsenal.

Making matters worse, there is also a severe shortage of trained personnel to operate and repair nuclear systems. That problem is the result of several factors, ranging from the "merger" of the conventional and nuclear munitions career fields, to the employment of nuclear specialists in other tasks, including guarding prisoners in Iraq.

Obviously, the only effective cure for the "experience" problem is time--and lots of training. Until that happens, missile and bomb wing commanders will be sweating their NSIs, knowing that much of their workforce is still green.

Best of luck to Colonel Cox and Colonel Fred Stoss, the new commander of the 91st. They'll need it.

Desperate Hours in Sudan

Kudos to staff writer Michael Hoffman of Air Force Times. Mr. Hoffman--the first reporter to uncover the inadvertent transfer of nuclear weapons between Air Force bases in North Dakota and Louisiana in 2007--has discovered another event the service would rather forget.

It happened almost three years ago, at a remote airfield in Sudan. An Air Force HC-130, normally used to coordinate search-and-rescue missions, was assigned a seemingly routine task. The aircraft (and its eleven man crew) were dispatched from their deployment base in Djibouti, to pick up a U.S. military officer assigned to the U.N. mission in Darfur. The officer's wife was pregnant and had fallen ill; the HC-130 would cover the first leg of his journey home.

But the pick-up mission proved anything but routine. Sudanese soldiers at the crew's destination (Al-Fashir Airfield) were convinced the Americans were there to collect evidence of war crimes, and not retrieve the liaison officer. As Michael Hoffman describes it:

At 8 a.m. under fair conditions, PAT 332 took off from Camp Lemonier and flew 3½ hours to Khartoum. Waiting for them on the ground was a U.S. Embassy representative. An hour later, the plane took off for Al-Fashir.

The HC-130 made its approach to Al-Fashir two hours later. As the wheels touched down, crew members watched as Sudanese soldiers — 50 to 100 feet apart along both sides of the runway — turned and pointed their AK47s at the plane. Also near the airfield were anti-aircraft guns. In the background was a garrison, not shown in the images.

Waiting for the plane were two U.S. military liaisons with six locked duffel bags. One of the men, the crew members assumed, was the father-to-be. They were wrong. The military liaison they had come to pick up was already gone, the men said. He had left five days earlier but needed his bags of equipment and four 9mm pistols.

The crew members loaded the bags and hid the guns in the plane before they checked in with airfield officials, who requested that co-pilots 1st Lt. Timothy Saxton and 1st Lt. John Cuddy deliver their flight plan to the air traffic control tower. Saxton and Cuddy agreed to do as requested but asked if they could keep the plane’s engines running while the officers were driven to the tower because one of the turboprops was hard to start. Their request was denied, and they shut down PAT 332.

After Saxton and Cuddy returned to their aircraft, the HC-130 was cleared for departure. But as the aircraft taxied out, a Sudanese intelligence officer noticed the FLIR ball on the bottom of the aircraft. Concerned that the FLIR had recorded images of bombs being loaded on Sudan's military aircraft at the field--for use against civilian targets in Darfur--a Sudanese intelligence official began barking orders into his cell phone. Seconds later, the HC-130, callsign PAT 332, was ordered to return to the ramp.

Over the hours that followed, the situation grew increasingly tense. A group of Sudanese soldiers surrounded the aircraft. At one point, U.S. military liaison officers--who met the HC-130 when it landed--told the crew they might be arrested and executed. A Sudanese officer also informed the Americans that the crew's two female members would be raped after being taken into custody.

The stand-off continued into the evening, with the crew of PAT 332 caught in the middle. At one point, the radio operator, MSgt Paul Widener, radioed Camp Lemonier in Djibouti and asked if any aircraft had been launched to support them. All aircraft were on the ground, he was told.

Meanwhile, an estimated 150 Sudanese soldiers took up firing positions around the aircraft. The eleven aircrew members (and a six-man security detachment from the Guam National Guard) donned body armor and readied their weapons. But if the Sudanese opened fire with machineguns and RPGs, the Air Force crew stood little chance of survival.

The terrifying ordeal finally ended when a U.S. liaison officer asked to speak with the airfield commander, who demanded payment of a landing fee. He was told the fee had been paid--and didn't ask for proof. With that issue settled, PAT 332 and its crew were finally allowed to leave.

When they returned to Djibouti, the crew faced an equally strange reception. From the Air Force Times account:

A debriefing by an intelligence analyst, psychologist and flight surgeon is standard protocol to reintegrate an airman held hostage. But not even the squadron intelligence officer was waiting when PAT 332 landed because squadron commander Lt. Col. Christopher Austin hadn’t reported the mission as a hostage event to Central Command’s Joint Personnel Recovery Center, which would have put the reintegration process in motion.

An enlisted intelligence specialist had been on the ground at Camp Lemonier and started to debrief the crew members, but an unidentified officer ended the session and ordered everyone to go to bed. They were scheduled to fly a training mission the next day.

The mission left aircrew members with questions about their safety. One worried that his name had been taken by Sudanese intelligence officials and his family was vulnerable. A squadron intelligence officer told him that his name probably had been entered into Sudanese intelligence databases but not to worry about it. The crew member couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

More than 70 days passed before Central Command learned about the mission. None of the documents stated who corrected the report. CentCom intelligence officials tracked down the crew members and National Guardsmen to file a Joint Personnel Recovery Agency report.

The help from Central Command, though, came too late for at least two aircrew members. They now suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder and are no longer allowed to fly because of their diagnosis. Both list the mission to Al-Fashir as the cause of their symptoms, which include severe anxiety and depression.

To this day, no Air Force official can explain why Lt Col Austin mis-handled the situation so badly--or if higher-ups pressured him to keep the incident quiet. He has not been made available for media interviews.

And, if that's not bad enough, the crew of PAT 332 received a final insult earlier this year. For their cool-headed actions at Al-Fashir, the officers were nominated for Bronze Stars, while enlisted personnel were nominated for Air Force Commendation Medals with the "V" (Valor) device.

But their decorations were down-graded by then Lieutenant General Gary North, the former commander of Air Forces Central Command. A memo from North's office said "justification does not support award recommendation." Instead, the crew of the HC-130 received Air Force Achievement Medals with the Valor device.

Readers will recall that General North is the same flag officer who ran interference for Major Jill Metzger, the Air Force officer who "disappeared" from a mall in Kyrgyzstan in September 2006. When she resurfaced three days later, Metzger claimed that she had been kidnapped. But no evidence to support that theory has ever been found. A number of U.S. law enforcement officials believe that Metzger staged her own disappearance, perhaps to cover-up an AWOL.

According to MilitaryCorruption.com, General North was present when Metzger was "repatriated." Interestingly, he told two Air Force Security Forces specialists (protecting the flightline) to keep what they saw and heard to themselves. He then pressed his personal coin into their hands, in an effort to seal the deal.

North was willing to go to bat for Jill Metzger, a woman who is an abject liar (and worse). But he rejected modest awards for a heroic crew in a dangerous situation that could have easily triggered a war. Someone needs to ask General North how he justifies that double standard.

As you might have heard, North recently received his fourth star. Go figure.

The Price Guarantee

It sounds like something you'd hear on a late night TV commercial for a local car dealer. You know, that irritating guy who promises the lowest price on a vehicle...guaranteed! And if he can't match a competitor's offer, he'll give you the difference, yada, yada, yada.

Of course, no one puts much stock in such promises. So why is the same tactic being applied to the Air Force's $35 billion dollar contract for new aerial tankers?

According to Amy Butler of Aviation Week, the CEOs of Northrop-Grumman and Boeing (the two firms competing for the tanker deal) must sign a certification letter as part of their forthcoming contract proposals. In the letter, the CEOs must guarantee "the performance, schedule and cost claims made in the bid," according to a defense industry source familiar with the requirement. The official spoke with Ms. Butler on the condition of anonymity.

The Pentagon's insistence on a "CEO guarantee" has a lot of aerospace executives scratching their heads. As the defense executive told Amy Butler:

*First, shouldn't the bid itself -- on Boeing or Northrop Grumman letterhead -- implicitly be personally guaranteed by the CEO as well as all officers of the company that submits it? So, why does USAF need this extra certification?

*Second, why then would this rile industry? A CEO should personally back his proposals -- all of them. The only reason I see to distance yourself as a CEO from your company's bid is if the bid is bogus, in which case you are doing harm to your customer and, potentially, your shareholders by proposing it and, possibly, winning on a false strategy (a la FIA).

*Third, is there some extra layer of legal liability this puts personally on the CEO, rather than his or her standard responsibilities? And, so, if not, why does DOD go to the trouble? Is this basically saying that procurement has gone so awry that the proposals aren't worth the paper they are written on?

From the USAF's perspective, there are plenty of reasons to be concerned--and request an extra level of certification. We've devoted numerous posts to the debacle that was--and is--the next generation tanker program. The service's attempt to field a new aerial refueling platform is roughly a decade behind schedule, and past efforts were riddled with corruption, accusations of favoritism, shifting program requirements, and legal challenges.

Judging from the recently-released Request for Proposals (RFP) for the tanker contract, it's clear that the Air Force is making every attempt to hold the line on costs, believing that there is little margin for error (or potential overruns) in its plan to acquire 179 new tanker aircraft. Hence, that request for a CEO guarantee.

But much of this mess can be pinned squarely on the Air Force. The original plan to lease KC-767 tankers from Boeing went down in flames, after it was learned that the service's senior civilian acquisition official had arranged jobs for herself--and two family members--with the defense contractor. Political and legal fallout from the failed lease program set the program back at least five years.

A second try at awarding a contract resulted in a victory for Northrop-Grumman and its European partner, EADS, which offered a tanker version of the Airbus A330 jetliner. But Boeing cried foul, claiming that Air Force specifications were vague, and that the service actually favored the larger Northrop-Grumman entry when its requirements suggested a smaller airframe like the 767. Boeing's protests were eventually upheld; the Northrop-Grumman contract was tossed out and the acquisition process returned to square one.

But the tanker woes didn't stop there. At one point, the Pentagon stripped the USAF of its authority to select a new refueler, transferring that responsibility to then-DoD acquisitions chief John Young. The service eventually regained control of the selection process, but it's no surprise that Air Force acquisition managers are a little bit nervous--and gun-shy.

Meanwhile, members of Congress aligned themselves with the two competing teams, hoping to bring home the bacon to their constituents. Several key members of the House and Senate actually suggested a "split buy" for the tanker, with Boeing and Northrop-Grumman sharing in the spoils. Never mind that such a program would result in significantly higher costs for parts, maintenance, and training, since the Air Force would wind up with two new tankers, rather than just one. Thankfully, support for the split buy seems to have cooled in recent months, but it shows the level of in-fighting associated with the tanker deal.

As for the newly-mandated price guarantee, it's supposed to prevent a common tactic in defense contracting. You probably know how it goes; a defense firm offers a rock-bottom price for a new system, which the Pentagon quickly accepts, believing it is getting a great deal. But, inevitable cost overruns creep into the picture, forcing DoD to re-open the contract and provide more funding.

With its emphasis on cost, there's nothing (at least in theory) to stop the same thing from happening in the tanker program. And that's where that CEO letter apparently fits into the scheme. By forcing the firm's chief executive to certify price and performance data, DoD will have something to use against the company when it requests more additional money.

Unfortunately, that "strategy" ignores a few critical points. With its over-emphasis on cost, the new tanker RFP almost guarantees that one--or both--tanker competitors will submit low-ball bids, aimed at securing the contract at all costs. That would mean the company would take a bath on development expenses, then plead poverty when operational production begins. At that point (several more years and billions into the program), the Air Force would have little choice but to pony up.

Additionally, we wonder how the "CEO guarantee" can be enforced when some corporate leaders are hired (and fired) at the frequency of baseball managers. In other words, can the Air Force--and the Pentagon--hold Boeing or Northrop-Grumman to guarantees made by a former CEO?

Put another way, "price guarantees" for the next-generation tanker will prove as reliable--and trustworthy--as the deal promised by your local car dealer. Somehow, the defense acquisition process has taken another step backward, at the very moment the Air Force needs new tankers.