For many of the first members of the 330th ASA problems began with our arrival in Germany. All Army personnel assigned to units in Germany were required to process through the Frankfurt Repo Depo for incoming processing and ultimate assignment to their duty station. We ran into problems when the 330th ASA Co. didn’t appear as an active unit in Germany. Despite our written orders in hand and vehement protest, the Repo Depo would not dispatch us to an Unknown unit, with no known garrison location (and who ever heard of an Army unit assigned to a Air Force Base (Sembach)). We contacted our parent unit, 502nd ASA Group Augsburg. We were held in Frankfurt for two miserable weeks, pulling details, awaiting the wheels of progress to resolve our status and we were sent to Augsburg for more weeks of details. It appeared that the Army really wasn’t ready to “Stand up” our new aviation unit. The 330th had no firm mission, no barracks or designated area to claim as our base, no command structure or cadre, no established supply channels, no commitment for airbase operations. Due to the nature of our business (reconnaissance) and the desire to keep the deployment of our new technology a low profile event, further complicated our situation. No one knew who we were, where we were going and what we were supposed to be doing -kinda makes it difficult to ask for help. I wish I could remember the name of our founding Captain. He, after weeks of run-around, gather twelve of us out of our limbo status in Augsburg, formed a caravan of dilapidated cast off vehicles scrounged from other 502nd units and set off for Sembach. Even this trip from Augsburg to Sembach ran into problems with two vehicles dying enroute. One temporarily stored at a conveniently located Army Kaserne the second towed the remaining miles to the Grundstadt motorpool.
For some reason, the Air Force, took pity on us and allowed us to set up operations at Sembach. Probably because we were to use Ramstein as our permanent airfield. A nice gesture by the AF but we ended up housed in an abandon barracks building in Sembach AFB. Several weeks of cleaning, painting and repairing of the building was required to bring the building up to living conditions. Well at least we were not in Frankfurt or Augsburg and besides the equipment had not arrived from the U.S.
Eventually the equipment arrived. Last to appear were the aircraft. The aircraft did not have the range to be flown from the U.S. to Germany, so the Navy was enlisted to transport the planes. The aircraft were lashed to the deck of a Navy carrier for the transit. The Army recon aircraft were not designed to withstand exposure to the elements (sea spray,). All the aircraft were offloaded at Rota Spain for post transit rehab/cleanup. The task took several weeks to complete which further frustrated the antsy operational staff of the 330th. Finally, the stars aligned, the aircraft and ground equipment arrived, and the real work began.
The initial “stand up” of the ground processing equipment at Grunstadt exposed some unexpected issues. The compound was position on level ground that was covered (by the previous Nike/Hercules missile resident unit) with PSP (Perforated Steel Planking). The PSP provided a nice stable base and good solid electrical ground connection. Perfect – well almost. The electrical wiring in the new IPF vans was installed in accordance with the current NEC (National Electrical Code) standards whereas some of the older vans that were interconnected to the common power supply were built to older standards. The wire color coding for the AC power was different between the two standards. As a result, the high current three phase AC hot, neutral and ground wires got crossed during installation (by authorized facilities engineers). As soon as the power generators were engaged, a loud bang was heard emanating from our brand new IPF vans. Luckily no internal electronics were damaged but the power connecting cables and terminal became welded together. So much for disconnecting the 100 foot long cables if we needed to moved the vans. The cabling error was corrected, and the system brought online without further incident. However, the permanently attached cables remain an artifact of this incident during the remainder of my tour with the 330th.
Airfield operations were fraught with logistical problems. Simple things like, “Who are you guys and why should we bring fuel to you” to “Why should the Air Force connect telephone lines to supposedly vacant building and you guys want heat and water too”?
Operationally, the flight line people arrived three to four hours earlier to prep the aircraft for missions. Winter operations caused even more problems since the aircraft electronics had to be warmed up before we could prep and test the systems. Initially our hangars were not heated so to warm the equipment we had to follow a specific power on sequence which used the “first on’ equipment generated heat to preheat the remaining equipment. This warm up sequence added minutes if not hours to our preflight times. So for double missions (two, two aircraft flights per day) our staff was typically on site for 12 hour days.
As mention by other contributors, the aircraft were flown well beyond original design specifications. Flying the heavily loaded airframes at high altitudes resulted in frequent engine problems. The unit operated under an agreement with the Mannheim aircraft depot for replacement parts. On several occasions we needed to exchange a failed aircraft engine for a replacement engine. During one of our periods of high mission surges, we needed to execute such an exchange. The aircraft maintenance officer and I traveled to Mannheim with a defective engine. Upon arrival we were informed that no replacement engines were available, however as we exited the hangar offices the Captain noted an engine that met our needs being mounted on an aircraft. The Captain did an about face, entered the office, produced a “magic” U.S. Army maintenance order that stated we had maintenance priority over all other activities in Germany. The Mannheim office objected since the engine replacement we witnessed in the hangar was to repair an aircraft belonging to the U.S. Army Europe Commanding General. After much yelling and several phone calls we ended up leaving with the Generals engine. My thought, “Man I gotta get me a copy of that maintenance order!” Then to make matters even more ironic, after the Generals engine was mounted on our aircraft, that very engine was damaged during at training flight when a pilot inadvertently feathered the wrong engine and “over torqued” the Generals engine.
One of the early tasks to which I was assigned was the fielding of the TCT communications terminal throughout Europe. I was assigned to an Air Force Captain to complete this task. The only fun part was that the Captain and I traveled in civilian clothes – no one knew who we were. Most, but not all, of the installation occurred without incident. During this effort, we were instructed to install our equipment in one of Europe’s most sophisticated data fusion centers. Upon our arrival at the center, a Colonel rejected our efforts stating “your not putting that crap in my center”. Can’t say I blamed him. His center was a consolidation of the newest sophisticated systems – real star wars stuff – pretty lights, screens, computer consoles where as our stuff was two, four foot high, olive drab green equipment enclosures. The Colonel and my Captain carried on a heated discussion for several minutes during which time the Captain produced a two or three page document (the content of which I did not and would not ever know) that caused the Colonel’s face to redden. Politely my Captain suggested the Colonel and he got clarification via the Colonels encrypted phone. I wasn’t privy to the conversation but within minutes the pair emerged from the Colonels office. He, still red faced, pointed to a remote corner of the operational area and told us to put the crap over there. My thought, “Man – I gotta get me a copy of THAT document”. We did the install, then proceeded to verify the equipment operation and left. Several months later the 330th received a message from the center stating that our ugly little TCT had become one of their most valuable assets.
The REFORGER exercise happened during the early operational period of the GR IIA system. The Army Powers That Be wanted the 330th to show their stuff during the operation. Sooo – my good ole Air Force Captain and I had to install a TCT at one of the tactical (deployed) Army Brigades. Our first efforts were to train the equipment users and let them do the dirty work. Seems Army tradition had other ideas. The Brigades trained operators were reassigned and “the sick, lame and lazy” members assigned to run our TCT. A couple of days into the exercise we learned that the unit TCT had failed. The Captain and I traveled, by 5/4 ton truck, to the TCT site only to discover the unit had not been uncrated. We proceeded to install the system. Once turned on the TCT started cranking out messages that were printed on a roll of paper. The good Captain gathered the 20 foot long message and disappeared into the Brigade TOC. By the time the Captain returned another 20 foot long message scroll was available. We handed off the operation to the Brigade staff and left. A day or so later we received another indication the fielded TCT wasn’t working. Again the Captain and I traveled to the site. This time in a Hertz rental car. On the way the car got stuck up to the axles in sand. We flagged down a passing Army vehicle and completed our trip to the site. That abandon Hertz car may still be stuck somewhere in a remote field in Germany. When the good Captain and I arrived that the TOC we found that the TCT was operational and that the only problem was the staff didn’t turn it on because it cranked out more data than they could handle. The outcome of all this was that the good Captain stayed with the TCT for the duration of the exercise and I was helicoptered back to Mannheim and ultimately Grundstadt. With the Captain babysitting the TCT and sheparding/interpreting the data the TCT provided enough of an edge to upset the predetermined winner/looser of the war game. This one incident established the 330ths reputation within the U.S. Army. I never saw the Captain after that incident.
Looking back on things the Air Force Captain was probably one of the Unsung Heroes of GR. Without him and his tenacious effort to install the TCT equipment throughout Europe, GR IIA’s importance would not have been realized.
Sometime during the units’ early operations, it came to the attention of the company logistics personnel that the amount of “mogas” consumption was abnormally high. Fearing that someone in the unit was pilfering petroleum for their personal vehicles, the management devised a plan to identify and prosecute the culprit. The plan – put a type of dye into the mogas supply. This dye/ fuel mixture when used in an internal combustion engine would leave a telltale red residue on the engine exhaust. By inspecting the POVs around the work areas, management hoped to identify the thief. The plan was approved and with great secrecy put into play. Only problem was the G.I. grapevine was more efficient than the clandestine petroleum ploy. If any of the G.I.s were stealing gas, the advanced knowledge of the dye plan must have caused any would be thief to suspend if not halt their activity. Whether management knew of the plans leak or not is unknown but the plan was placed into operation. Unfortunately, the people putting the dye into the mogas supply did not use the correct proportions of dye to gas. The resultant contaminated dye/gas concoction not only did not identify the alleged gas thief but when used in the aircraft ground power units caused at least two these costly generators to fail, requiring an extensive overhaul.
The dreaded IG inspections for the 330th were postponed until the second year of operation. Even given this respite, the airfield supply clerk was confronted with a monstrous task. The new GR IIA high tech system used a very large number of non-standard parts. The poor clerk did his best to cross reference, index/catalog and store these strange new widgets. During the first IG, the clerk got numerous (probably 10 or more) gigs. The Company management was not happy to say the least and the clerk caught hell (and unwelcomed oversight) for weeks if not months afterwards. Time passed and the second IG inspection was imminent. The situation with the uniqueness of the parts had not changed. What’s a guy to do? Our clerk decided to remove every single part from his storage area and squirrel them away somewhere. On the day of the inspection the IG exit report listed only ONE gig – no spare mission equipment parts on the flight line. Company management was elated. Go figure.
It was not unusual for the 330th to draw 24-hour continuous operations, especially when the bad guys were acting up which was frequent. One early morning at the Grunstadt site the IPF vans were staffed with a full complement of operator/analyst. Actual operations in the wee morning hours were very, very slow. Consequently, many of the operators were dozing at position. Suddenly someone got access to the van wide Public Address system and shouted “Anyone who can’t tap dance is of questionable sexuality (paraphrased). Immediately, 3 vans worth of operators jumped up and started tap dancing. And right on queue, wouldn’t you know, a high ranking officer stepped into the vans. The officer stopped, looked down the line of galloping operator, did an about face and left. I never learned if the event was planned or just a perfectly timed coincidence. Nothing was said of the incident by management, guess they understood that at times the task could be extremely monotonous.
The GR IIA system computers used a computer driven high speed printer, the output of which was specified in pages per minute verse the customary lines per minute. One of the more senior staff discovered that the line printer made for a comfortable napping prop. Frequently he could be found with his chair leaned against the printer, snoozing. The 33S maintenance personnel discovered the capability to directly control the line printer functions through the computer maintenance features. So, one early morning during the staff members’ snoozing the 33s, using the computer, issued ten or so form feeds to the printer. The result was that a large volume of paper shot up vertically out of the printer and buried our snoozing staff member.
Another interesting discovery made by the 33s was that using special computer commands graphic objects could be transmitted from the system computer to any operator position. It didn’t take long for the 33s to devise a way of messing with the operators. One maintenance person and an appropriately position co-conspirator, decided to throw in a few extra graphic characters whenever an operator (under close observation by the co-conspirator) issued a specific system data request. The operator expected a one or two symbol response and we would throw in three or four extras. Confusion reigned supreme. The 33s humor was short lived. Once the prank was uncovered, the 33s were verbally chastised and had to convince management the prank did not contaminate any of the collected data.
Many G.I. acquired automobiles from the German locals for their personal vehicles. One G.I. obtained a beautiful red Jaguar XKE. Everyone was jealous, the car was beautiful, until one day when the G.I. parked his pride and joy in the tight confines of Kleber Kaserne. Seems his vehicle was inadvertently struck by an Army Truck. It turned out his beautiful Jag was a bondo special. The seemingly minor accident caused cracks to appear on virtually every surface of the car. No reputable repair company would touch the car due to the underlying, bondo covered damage. The car was a total write off but the jokes lived on for months.
Initial placement of the GR IIA IPF trailers onto the Grunstadt site provided an example of the ingenuity of the 330th staff. The road leading to the site passed under the autobahn. The height of the underpass was adequate (say for example 20 ft) for the level transit of the trailers (again an example 19 ft). Problem was that the exit of the underpass immediately changed to a rather steep grade. As a result, combined height of the IPF trailers, the tractor and inclining roadway caused the top of the vans to hit the underside of the underpass. There we were with a multimillion dollar tactical system stuck in a underpass. I believe it was one of the lower ranking motor pool staff or drivers that provided the solution. Let the air out of the tires. The simplest of solution worked wonderfully. We proceeded to move the three vans through the underpass using the same technic.
During routine airframe maintenance, a plane was placed on heavy duty wheeled jack stands. During elevating/dropping of the aircraft, the jack wheels permitted continuous alignment of the jacks that prevented the binding of the jack hydraulics. While lowering of one aircraft, a newbie mechanic forgot to release the jack stand brakes. As the plane, with two of the three jack stands free to self-align, was gradually lowered the third jack stand, with lock brakes, bound. The crew chief, directing the lowering process, realized the problem, yelled at the newbie to release the brakes. When the brakes were suddenly released, the bound jack stand shifted, adjusted under the weight of the aircraft, then bound again. The bound jack stand punched a hole through the aircraft wing. This slight momentary oversight took the plane out of service for a couple of weeks.
Each of the GR IIA aircraft had eighteen antennas. Within a few months of flight operations, an aircraft suffered an inflight detachment of an antenna. This prompted an immediate investigation into the design of the antenna. A solution was identified however, all antennas had to be removed and returned to the U.S. for a two week modification. We had six aircraft with eighteen antennas, each antenna secured with a unique set of shims and twelve different length screws (not that we counted). Scheduling the modifications became a nightmare, the normal airframe maintenance (every 100 hrs – requiring two to three days) conflicted with the roughly month and a half turn around time for a set of antennas. At any one time we had two of the six aircraft out of service. Of the remaining four aircraft, we had to have one configuration (ARF) flyable at all times for the Guardrail System to operate. This entailed moving equipment racks between aircraft. Since only three of the six aircraft were certified as an ARF configuration, we had to reconfigure, weigh and balance and certify the other three DARF configured aircraft. Somehow, we managed to juggle the planes and equipment over several months without missing a scheduled mission. Just to add an interesting twist, somehow a complete set of antennas got lost during shipment back from the U.S. Consequently, good ole TN 886 became our “hangar queen” not to be fully reconfigured during my time with the 330th. An interesting side-note on this story. Several year late (sometime between 1984 and 1989) while I was a contractor FSR supporting GR system in Wiesbaden, I got a phone call from the U.S. embassy in Brussels asking me if I was the SSG from the 330th and when was I going to pick up my crate of antennas that had been sitting in their warehouse for years. I deferred the problem to Army Materials Command Heidelberg.
An upgrade to the flight line facilities required a large quantity of cement. While delivering the cement, a cement mixing truck became stuck in the sand behind our hangar. An aircraft tug was brought in to tow the truck. The tug was position on a cement pad. Heavy duty chains were attached between the two vehicles. The tug driver (one of our crew chiefs) gradually pulled the chain taught then applied full power to the tug. The stuck cement truck didn’t budge, and the tug rear wheels simply spun. To get more weight over the tugs’ rear wheels, a couple of G.I.s jumped on the rear of the tug. Under the heavier weight the tug tires gripped. The tug popped a wheelie lifting the front wheels a foot or two off the ground. When the G.I.s saw what was happening, they jumped off the tug. The front of the tug slammed down causing a weight transfer off the rear wheels which in turn lost grip. As the weight shifted back over the rear wheels the tug again popped a wheelie. This teeter tottering continued for a couple of second giving our tug driving crew chief the reputation as a bucking horse rider.
There was the incident of the night time assault on the Grunstadt site. Seems the on-site MPs noticed eyes peering through the night fog that surrounded the site. The intruders failed to comply with the numerous verbal challenges by the MP but simply disappeared into the night fog. After hours of the cat and mouse game, the on-edge MPs succumbed to anxiety, drew his 45 and squeezed off a couple of rounds. The subsequent investigation by the German polizei concluded that the MP had heroically defended US government property from a family of mink that inhabited the area.
I can’t remember if it was before or after the mink incident, we had an MP shoot a hole in the floor of the guard shack while practicing his quick draw.
Due to the length of the antenna on the aircraft, the GR planes had to avoid the arresting cables at the end of the runways. The GR planes entered the runway mid field, taxied to the end, did a 180 then proceeded with takeoff. On occasion the AF Tower personnel, who were unaware of our practice, would place F4s onto the same runway for taking off or landings. It seemed that at least twice a year the pilots would bring an aircraft back covered with grass and mud from having to make rapid, stage right exit from the active runway to avoid the oncoming F4s.
Then there was the million dollar vineyard. Seems one of the units inebriated truck drivers missed a critical downhill, 90 degree, left hand turn encountered when leaving the Grunstadt site. By the time the driver stopped the vehicle he had managed to mow down 200 to 300 feet of grape vines. I dcan’t remember the actual dollar figure the U.S. government had to pay but like all claims against the U.S. this one must have been expensive. Seems the U.S. had to pay not only for the destruction of the present years crop and vines (of course these were claimed to be the most expensive highly desirable type of grapes) but the loss of income from grapes these demolished vines would have produce for several years in the future.
The flight line received numerous high-ranking dignitaries to review our operation. On one occasion, a full Colonel and his entourage received a briefing then moved to inspect the aircraft. While walking from the briefing area to the flight line, the Colonel lit a cigar. Upon crossing the no smoking line, the 330th flight line operations NCO, an SFC, asked the Colonel to extinguish his cigar. The Colonel responded by stating “That god damn airplane wouldn’t dare blow up around me!” To our astonishment the SFC grabbed the cigar from the Colonels mouth, threw it on the ground, stomped on it and stated to the Colonel, “It damn sure would”.
Another incident concerning the SFC. During an operational flight, a pilot reported over the radio that he had suffered an engine failure. Shortly after the pilot called again reporting a second engine failure, not good on a two-engine aircraft. The pilots made a dead stick landing at Mainz Finthen. While all this unfolded the SFC paced around the ops area like a caged wolf, mumbled something about the mental qualities of the newbie pilots. As the plane landed in Finthen, the SFC and a driver grabbed a vehicle and drove to greet the crippled aircraft. A couple of hours later, the driver and the two pilots returned in the vehicle but no SFC. Later the SFC arrived at Ramstein flying the crippled aircraft. His first comment upon disembarking was “Damn pilots don’t know how to operate a transfer switch (required to refill each engine main tank from the wing bladders). The planes had simply drained the main tanks and flamed out while the wing bladders were full of fuel.
I can’t remember the SFC’s name but he was one of the NCOs I respected most. He proved that if you’re in the right you can do almost anything in the Army.
Written by Duncan Michael (Mike) Wagner