U.S. soldiers relish their new roll -- life savers

By Rafael D. Frankel

UTAPAO, Thailand -- Heavy air traffic over the quake and tsunami-ravaged Indonesian city of Bandeh Ache had delayed the late-night US military relief flight for hours, so the exhausted American crew of the C-17, wearing coats and hats to ward off the unseasonable cold at the Thai naval base here, hunkered down in the tightly packed cargo plane for a few welcome hours of sleep.

When, in the pre-dawn darkness and slight fog of Monday morning, the four jet engines of the Globemaster III finally fired up for take off, the mood onboard was one of excitement. Air Force servicemen pulled from stations in Okinawa, Guam, and Washington State and South Carolina, hollered and cheered as the 425,000-pound aircraft took to the air, packed with over 20,000 pounds of bottled water, 18,000 pounds of rice, vehicle fuel, a pick up truck, and flood lights.

"It's a privilege to be able to help people, to be an ambassador for our nation," said 1st Lt. Damon Field, 24, from Pleasanton, Ca., who was the co-pilot on the mission. "Hopefully we can let them know we're a generous and compassionate people."

The C-17 crew are among over 18,000 American military personnel assigned to perhaps the largest disaster relief effort the world has ever seen. Over 20 navy ships, 50 helicopters, and 31 Air Force planes are being brought to bare on the disaster areas around the Indian Ocean.

As if exorcising its own demons, Utapao, once a key US installation during the Vietnam War, is now the central operating base in the multi-national relief effort.

The US military is playing a leading role in bringing vital supplies to Sumatra, the area hardest hit by the 9.0 magnitude quake and following tsunami, which washed away entire communities and killed over 100,000 people on that island alone.

Before the C-17 is ready to make its run to Bandeh Ache, ground support is busy loading pallets of supplies by forklift and pick-up truck into its cargo hold. On board, the loadmasters buckle the gear down with rope-nets and carabineers.

Once airborne, only the pilots and load masters have jobs. The rest of the dozen-strong crew needs only a few minutes to discuss the plan of operations once the C-17 lands.

Though they view their mission as a simple, albeit important, supply drop, many of the crew are very much aware of the possible political ramifications their relief efforts.

Mindful of the negative attitudes much of the world—especially Muslim nations like Indonesia—harbor toward the United States in the aftermath of the Iraq War, Staff Sgt. Jeremiah Davis, 25, from Seattle, said he wanted to show the world “the kind of country we are.”

“At the heart of our country is mostly Christianity, but we set aside our religions when it comes to human suffering. When it comes to that, we’re unbiased because we’re all humans,” he said, raising his voice over the engines which prompt the loadmasters to pass out ear plugs to all passengers before C-17 flights.

The decent in to Banda Ache is rapid and with only two windows available to the load masters, it is anyone in the cargo hold’s guess when the Globemaster III might strike ground.

Though the landing is executed flawlessly, it was not easy, with various objects scattered around the strip. “The nature of this destination means we have to push it a bit to get aid where it needs to go,” Lt. Field said.

Upon touchdown in Bandeh Ache, the crew snaps to work, immediately unloading its life-saving cargo to joint American forces on the ground there who ready them for helicopter delivery.

Conditions for the international troops assigned to Bandeh Ache are vastly different than their colleagues at Utapao, just a one-and-a-half hour flight to the northeast. The tents they live in on muddied fields adjacent to the runway; the single-room terminal of the Bandeh Ache airport; and the lack of any buildings which could blight the view of the rice paddies make this camp seem as though it were located on a Pacific island during World War II.

"The conditions aren't pleasant here, but there are a lot of good countries doing a lot of good things," said Marine Master Sgt. Phillip Pena, from Arizona.

Just as he finishes the sentence, a fellow marine pops his head in the tent and screams: “Grab a stretcher!” Pena drops the maps of the helicopter supply sorties he is studying--the U.S. had completed 82 in Sumatra to that point--and does just that, running out the door.

In a rice paddy around 400 yards from the airport runway, what was to be the 83rd helicopter mission is submerged in three feet of water with its rotors sheered and its tail broken in two. Scores of military personnel from the international force are descending on the crash site, running and slipping their way through the flooded rice paddies in the flattering post-sunrise light.

“It went into a flat spin like in ‘Black Hawk Down’ and never recovered,” an Australian G.I. who saw the crash said.

Fortunately all ten crew members from the H-60 Seahawk attached to the U.S.S. Abraham Lincoln survive the crash, some walking away almost unscathed.

“The Aussies did an outstanding job, really fast,” Capt. Jeremy Boyd, 33, a pilot of a KC-135R refueling craft who was one of the first on the scene to the crash site said. A team of Australian medics “scaled a barb-wire fence” to get to the downed chopper, he said.

Though the crash shut down helicopter operations for two hours, the C-17 with its crew and minus its cargo had no time to spare in its busy schedule. While the crew goes 12 hours on and 12 hours off, the aircraft is in constant operation.

After only two hours on the ground in Ache, including an hour of down time when crew members were assisting in the helicopter rescue operations, the Globemaster III was back in the air.

Exhausted and somewhat stunned, the crew laid down in the empty cargo hold or sat mostly silent in their seats on the return flight to Utapao.

“It’s always a terrible feeling knowing somebody from a sister service--or anyone for that matter--is going to get hurt,” said Master Sgt. Richard Inman, 40, from Ithaca, who filmed the crash. “But the US military is in the business of taking risks and that’s one of them.”

Despite the injuries sustained to their comrades an hour earlier, none of the C-17 crew questioned whether American forces should be engaged in relief work across the tsunami-stricken areas.

“I’m grateful that no one died, but I’m glad [the crash] didn’t shut down the airfield,” Capt. Boyd said. “There’s a lot more people out there that need our help.”

© 2005 The Boston Globe