The BIAP Strike Cell
WES BRYANT
The BIAP Strike Cell was definitely not the pillar of architectural glory one might have expected when imagining the sole location from which all airstrikes against ISIS in central and western Iraq were soon to be controlled.
Just a couple hundred meters down the airfield from the Glass House where our SOTF-I was headquartered, the new strike cell was set among a bunch of run-down mobile trailer units once used as troop barracks during the U.S. occupation in the Iraq war. The trailer was in a graveled dirt lot that was prone to forming large mud puddles after the frequent bouts of rain during that time of year. It had two entrances, one in front and one in back, with old, hastily constructed wooden stairs leading about four steps up into the doorways and offering just enough stair and porch to stomp most of the wet mud off of our shoes and boots.
It was field-expedient, yet highly effective.
Inside the trailer was a large main room, about fifteen feet deep by thirty feet long, that contained the nucleus of the strike cell. Two separate offices in the back housed the desks of Colonel Kehoe and his operations officer, Major David McRae—who served as the deputy director, second in command to Colonel Kehoe. The two would oversee the cell’s operations 24/7. As our primary target engagement authority (TEA), General Pittard would be the only officer to give the final go-ahead to strike.
Three long rows of plastic-topped folding tables lined the room front-to-back. At the front-right were the three JTAC seats—the fulcrum of the cell. We placed a senior JTAC on shift at all times as the lead for targeting and “sensor management”—making the decisions on what to do with our aircraft to keep targeting in line with the intent of General Pittard and the directors. Vern and I would split that role along with a couple of my senior Combat Control JTACs, Josh and Adam, and our SEAL lieutenant. During our respective shifts we’d be the lynchpin for all decisions regarding how the cell would utilize the fighter jets, bombers, and drones tasked to us in order to most effectively find and kill ISIS targets. We’d also be the sole individuals charged with vetting targets before briefing the directors and General Pittard, advising them on strike considerations, and requesting authorization to strike.
We put at least one JTAC, sometimes two, on shift as the “primary controllers”—depending on the operational need for a given day. The primary controller was completely freed up to handle the “stacks” of aircraft flying for us throughout central or western Iraq, to support Iraqi ground operations or hunt ISIS independently. We let them focus solely on controlling so that during airstrike execution they were 100 percent dedicated to control of the mission, instead of becoming distracted by the need to back-brief the senior staff or the general while in the midst of an intense control. It turned out to be a great system.
Outside the trailer, large mast antennas of a multitude of frequency bands were connected to two Humvee-mounted radio communications pallets remoted into the cell. At the JTAC table inside the cell were three radio interface boxes cabled from the radio pallets in the trucks. That gave us the ability to tie-in to the amplified radios in the vehicles and talk to our aircraft on the multiple UHF-AM and SATCOM nets we utilized. Two secure phones at the desk, as well, enabled us to control drone crews back in the States, eliminating radio transmission delays.
Our coordination and planning for future operations was almost entirely accomplished by email traffic and secure chat and phone calls. Three secure networked computers sat at our workstation, vital for mission coordination with the various entities supporting us from all over the Middle East as well as our Special Forces teams embedded at the Iraqi operations centers who coordinated directly with the Iraqi ground commanders.
One computer was dedicated solely as the battle-tracking computer. It had secure Google Earth imagery and a database of marked points that we kept constantly updated. Day and night, our JTACs and intelligence analysts filled the database with reported and observed friendly positions and suspected enemy targets based on our intelligence reports as well as direct observation of the battlefield through our aircraft’s sensors. The computer was tied-in to a big screen TV in the front of the cell that we’d use to brief the directors and General Pittard when requesting strike approval, or when further “developing” a target.
Lining the front of the cell were five more big-screen TVs, all of which could be tied to the line-of-site video feeds from our fighter aircraft when they were in range, and to the digitally-streamed feeds from our drones. With those we had the ability to keep eyes on multiple friendly and enemy units at the same time while still scanning other locations for activity.
To our surprise, the exceptional aerial surveillance capability we had from the strike cell would come to, at times, give us as good if not better situational awareness of the battlefield than if we were on the ground ourselves. Once our strike cell got heavy into operations, it became common for us to have four or five feeds going at once—all giving us sensor pictures from the multiple aircraft under our control overhead various objective areas and battlegrounds throughout Iraq.
Things could get incredibly intense. At any given point, we could have a stack of strike and intelligence-gathering aircraft controlled through our radio headsets, multiple drones controlled through secure phones, and other assets controlled through secure chat. The level of focus required to safely and effectively coordinate all those air assets, keep track of the oft chaotic friendly and enemy fire and maneuver on the battlefield (not to mention civilian or neutral-force activity), and culminate it all into hitting the right targets and successfully enabling Iraqi ground offensives would probably be mind-boggling to the outside observer.
The Strike Cell Team
Directly left of the JTAC seats sat our intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance tactical controllers (ITCs). These were our “left hands” assisting us with sensor management. Referring, most often, to the capabilities of an aircraft’s targeting pod, the sensor was the piece of equipment that gave pilots and JTACs the capability to differentiate between individuals and objects on the ground, calculate coordinates with accuracy of a few meters, and guide air-to-ground ordnance onto targets from altitudes upwards of 20,000 feet.
ITCs also assisted us by controlling drones when we weren’t actively controlling strikes or supporting Iraqi ground offensives. Exhaustively filtering through mounds of daily reported intelligence, using their training and experience as analysts they’d allocate drone sensors to what they deemed potentially credible reports in order to find targets for the JTACs to prosecute.
During strike prosecution, our ITCs would help manage all the airspace for us, aid in target acquisition for other strike assets (fighter jets and bombers, specifically), and hand-off drones to us when we needed to use their Hellfire missiles.
Our best ISR controller was Captain Marcellus McKinley, an Air Force special operations intelligence officer. Marcellus was the sole ITC tasked to SOTF-I and a part of my team over at the task force. His keen analytical skill and ability combined with immense previous experience hunting the Taliban in Afghanistan would help serve us up some extremely lucrative targets with high enemy kill counts. He split eight-hour shifts with two conventional Air Force ISR controllers. Though not nearly as experienced from the start, they also proved extremely valuable as time went on.
Left of the ISR controllers sat a small Army communications and airspace management team from Colonel Kehoe’s 17th Field Artillery Brigade staff. The chief of the team was an older, soft-spoken U.S. Army warrant officer. He did an outstanding job as the sole individual in charge of both keeping all our communications and computer equipment running and tracking all the air traffic in Iraq to ensure our air assets were de-conflicted. The former was a formidable responsibility, and the latter was no easy task, to put it lightly.
The warrant officer worked odd shifts, timing them to the operational tempo of our strike cell operations. He tasked a couple of his junior soldiers to be in the cell whenever we needed in order to keep the communications equipment and computers running smoothly. We also relied on him and his crew to communicate with Iraqi airspace officials and ground artillery units and ensure our U.S. and coalition aircraft stayed de-conflicted from both Iraqi aircraft and Iraqi artillery fire. His small team of communications soldiers was truly an invaluable workhorse in the strike cell.
In the very center of the cell were seats reserved for the director, deputy director, and General Pittard. They’d be in the cell primarily during the execution of airstrikes, but sometimes they’d sit and observe—offering us guidance as we developed targets. During active ground offensives by the Iraqi military, they’d always be in the cell directing our operations.
As well, we had a military lawyer continually on-call. Two female Army lawyers, both extremely competent and focused, split twelve-hour shifts. The lawyers were charged with ensuring all of our targets were legal to strike and within our given rules of engagement. Colonel Kehoe and General Pittard nearly always consulted with them prior to approving strikes.
At the far left in the middle row sat a Navy SEAL or Army Special Forces team member (depending on the shift) from our special operations task force. They served as liaison (LNO) from the Special Forces teams we had embedded at the numerous Iraqi operations centers. They’d communicate with their teammates who were side-by-side the Iraqi commanders directly in charge of forward Iraqi forces.
The LNOs were our link between the strike cell and the Iraqi ground forces we supported. They informed us when the Iraqis were in a fight, passed the direct ground reporting on enemy positions and activity, and kept us updated on friendly force locations. During strikes, the LNOs were vital in relaying our guidance to forward ground forces to ensure we hit our intended targets as quickly and safely as possible. There were times, for example, when we’d need to direct the Iraqi forces to consolidate to a specified building prior to an airstrike if we thought they were too close to the target for our comfort. Our LNOs were our voice and ears to the Iraqi forces on the ground.
Straight behind the JTACs and to the right of the general and directors’ seats in the middle row sat two collateral damage estimation (CDE) analysts. Their job was to run formal analyses of any potential for collateral damage for nearly every target we prepared. They would come to do this within an extremely limited window—during “troops-in-contact” situations between Iraqi and ISIS forces or with fast-moving vehicle targets.
A typical analysis from our CDE team might be to recommend a change of ordnance to a smaller warhead or a change of attack parameters to alter a bomb or missile’s impact heading to reduce the risk of collateral damage to a nearby structure. Our CDE analysts were vital in enabling the strike cell to hit targets without causing collateral damage to surrounding infrastructure or inadvertent civilian casualties. They helped ensure that we maintained strict adherence to the rules of engagement and that we upheld the mandate we’d been given from CENTCOM to do everything we could to limit chances of collateral damage or civilian casualties resulting from our airstrikes.
Perhaps not surprisingly, CDE analysis would soon become so paramount in the evolving campaign against ISIS that, months later after I returned stateside, I’d attend formal training at the U.S. Central Command and become certified as a CDE analyst. On future deployments hunting ISIS then unforeseen to me in 2014, I would have the ability to perform CDE analysis in conjunction with my JTAC duties. That enabled me to target more effectively, and to speak more intelligently when advising senior commanders on potential risks of collateral damage.
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The campaign against ISIS was as rapidly evolving as it was complex. Because of that, it truly took all these elements of expertise—synergized masterfully through the exhaustive efforts of each and every player involved—to transform the BIAP Strike Cell into the multiservice conventional and special operations killing machine it soon became.