Moonlight Over Zepa

"Look at moon, its incredible", said David Kasberg (29) Captain of the C-130 Hercules transport plane speaking to co-pilot Captain Kevin Kelley (26). It's nearly a full moon, and a clear night, and 4 km below traces of artillery fire can be seen in Eastern Bosnia.

The moment is not quite right for poetic flights of the imagination on the subject of moonlight: a formation of four Hercules planes from the 435. regiment of the U.S. airforce transport command are nearing the zone from which they will be dropping aid to Zepa. All crews are ready. The navigators are following the screens, the pilots listening to their brief information, the crew leaders are ready in the tail of the planes with an uplifted right hand. The back doors have been open for the past twenty minutes, and in each plane a crewman waits with a knife for the order to cut the nylon ropes holding ten crates of food and medicine. The time is Central European (GMT+1), the date March 5, 02:30; we are over Eastern Bosnia. There is total darkness (no position lights, only shaded red lights in the plane) because this is now a flight in a war zone. The crew chief's (Mike, 24) orders are clear: no flashbulbs ("they are visible at this altitude"). This is the last phase before the discharge of the cargo, and the voices over the intercom are serious. The navigator is giving detailed instructions - "give me 20 meters to the right, now 5 meters left, O.K., go straight, slow down a little, 10 meters left, O.K., O.K..." The back door, a 3 by 4 meters ramp is open (since 02:00). The ten crates are lined up in two rows waiting to be dropped; it is increasingly colder in the plane (the outside temperature is around 60-70 below zero) and the heating is working at full blast. The transport crew (three airmen) and your reporter are breathing oxygen and starting to freeze, in spite of warm flight-suits, flak jackets, helmets and parachutes. Outside, Bosnian darkness and only the full moon shining on the mountain tops below us. If it were not for the earplugs and oxygen masks, the noise would be unbearable. All this is happening in the unreal silvery night and the only sound is a voice through the earphones saying: "Thirty more seconds..."

Two telephone calls were sufficient to get your reporter on the plane over Zepa in an incredibly short time. The first, with the U.S. Embassy press attache in Bonn, gave us the number of the Rhein-Main airbase in Frankfurt. During the second call the base officer on duty at the press office asked how fast we could get to Frankfurt, and our telephone number. He called the next morning, saying "come over, immediately." Without much fuss, we were told that the U.S. airforce was "happy" to have a journalist from Yugoslavia on this humanitarian flight, and that your reporter would be the first on the list. That night only CNN, New York Times, Associated Press and TASS journalists were going to be on the flight. At the base we were met by young people, professional soldiers, who would be the first to be engaged in the event of U.S. military involvement in the Balkan crisis. On the whole, they left a favorable impression: well dressed, efficient and organized professionals who are dealing with the basics, rather than with the bureaucratic procedural drudgery one would expect from a peacetime army. There is no stiffness in the greetings, and paperwork is kept down to minimum. The task at hand is important.

In this case, the task looks simple only on the surface: to deliver an average of 18 tons of food and 1/2 a ton of medicine to besieged zones in Eastern Bosnia nightly, with the crates hitting the general zone of the target. The cargo must be checked (no arms, ammunition, fuel) and if possible, to carry it all off without losses. In fact there are three sets of problems. The Americans are trying to solve two - security and precision with technology, and on the one hand, this is the most interesting part. The importance of these two demands is in opposite proportion when it comes to airdrops. Namely, the more precise the drops, the less safe it becomes, because the planes fly at low altitudes and are within the range of anti-aircraft fire from the ground. A middle course between security and precision is necessary. Political and logistics questions are easier. The logistics question - how to ensure 20 tons of ready meals daily -has long ceased to be a problem for the U.S. armed forces. Experience was acquired during World War Two, when the U.S. approach to feeding the troops at the front - ready-packed meals, overcame with great resistance, the classic European approach - a military field kitchen. The Frankfurt Rhein-Main airbase is the largest in this part of the world and serves as a supply center for U.S. troops in Europe. It's a matter of organization and the Americans are past masters at this.

The political question launched by the Serbian Republic in Bosnia-Herzegovina government - that arms, ammunition and fuel were being smuggled along with aid, was resolved by installing three types of inspectors on the spot: Bosnians from all three sides, a UNPROFOR officer and a UNHCR representative all controlling the packing of crates, their transport and loading onto planes. At the hangar where the crates are packed, the Serbian Republic in Bosnia-Herzegovina representative told VREME that he was very happy with the U.S. airforce's correct treatment of the inspectors: " I can't describe how open and honest they are with us. They've met all our wishes and are really great guys. I'm only worried that if one of those television people film me while I'm checking the crates, my family might have trouble with the Moslems." Considering the procedure, no tricks are possible. All is packed openly in one place, with the inspectors looking on. The only previously packed thing is a 40 cm by 20 cm by 5 cm package weighing around 1.3 kg, and you can't get a decent revolver into that, all the more so as the inspectors open up these packages at random. These packages are then packed into boxes with U.S. military signs (a crescent moon means that the food does not contain pork) and are then packed into crates weighing 850 kgs, all this is done under the supervision of inspectors. The crates are then wrapped up in black nylon and green canvas, and tied up with ropes. They are loaded onto trucks, followed by the inspectors to the Hercules and unloaded. Under the nylon there are two wide aluminum bands and they serve for a better radar control of the crates after they have been dropped. Whether their purpose is to facilitate computer or satellite tracking, remains an open question. When the planes are loaded, the inspectors tape the doors and sign them. The crews cannot enter the planes without the permission of the inspectors. The inspectors are present at the take off and are informed of the flight plan which is rather tight: the flight lasts six hours, the planes are full (cargo wise), so that there is not much chance of foul play.

It seems that the Bosnian Serb inspectors on the spot in Frankfurt are either not in communication with their bases, or perhaps they lack their trust. The Serbian Republic in Bosnia-Herzegovina Air Force and Anti-Aircraft Defence in Banja Luka decided to criticize them on March 9, nine days after the start of the operation. They are concerned over the possibility of a "cargo switch at other airports, or that aircraft which have not been cleared might join the flight," or that the Hercules "could use radar to reconnaissance our territory and facilities, positions of equipment and other units." This is an interesting point for two reasons: firstly, because the capacities for radar surveillance of the Air Force and the Anti-Aircraft Defence are capable of following the entire course of the flight. Secondly, considering that a good part of the parachuted aid ends up in Serbian hands, the risk of smuggling arms is too great; and thirdly, the Serbian Republic in Bosnia-Herzegovina Air Force and Anti-Aircraft Defence must know that satellites in low orbit can see all "objects and battle positions" without making it necessary to compromise a politically important and delicate relief operation.

As far as the U.S. is concerned, the political angle is a special story. "When I think about it, I like it," said Lieutenant Casey Mahoney while we were sitting in the pilots' quarters, waiting for take off. "Its better that we're dropping food and medicine, than bombs." The lieutenant has seen a few wars and is not at all aggressive. "I'm doing this with a clear conscience, and I'm happy," he says. "I don't care who gets hold of the aid, they're all hungry..." Later in Belgrade, a UNHCR observer told your reporter that the crates fell very precisely sometimes, but were often too dispersed. There were cases (in one locality) where 76 of the 80 crates were collected by the local inhabitants. There were cases when the crates fell between the warring sides, and no one dared approach them for fear of enemy fire. No one knows how many the bears got.

However, the political effect, and this was the object from the beginning, is better than expected. As far as Clinton's administration is concerned, something has been done; that something that all were screaming about, from the New York Times, to cynical Republicans, all for different reasons. This action has complemented another more serious action: U.S. involvement in the negotiating process, with a barely concealed ambition to take over from Cyrus Vance and Lord Owen (sending envoy Reginald Bartholomew to Moscow was a key move). The second political effect can be seen in the confusion created by the airdrops among Serbs: reactions ranged from cautious and benevolent (Gen. Ratko Mladic) to hysterical (Radovan Karadzic, the Yugoslav Army General Staff). Both reactions are based on the same belief, namely, that the airdrops have opened up the possibility for a military escalation, even if they do not necessarily lead to one. The decision lies in U.S. hands... Asked what would happen if one of the planes were not shot down, but ran into trouble and the crew had to bail out, Lieutenant Casey said glumly: "You know the procedure. In your flak jacket you have a small radio station. The crew only have Bereta 92F and a reserve clip, 30 bullets. Before bailing out, the crew would report their exact position according to the satellite navigational system and a helicopter rescue team would leave from the aircraft carrier in the Adriatic. A special plane sent out to the area where the crew are, would take over coordination of the rescue. The crew would set up a radio link with this plane and it would determine each man's position on the ground, getting dispersed crew members to get together (they can't communicate between themselves with the radio stations they have). The plane would then direct the helicopters until the crew made contact and picked them up." "What if the crew and rescue team are attacked, as was the case after the downing of the Italian G-222 transport plane in Herzegovina?" Lieutenant Casey shrugs his shoulders. "You know the procedure," he repeats. "There were cases earlier when a fighter-bomber would come and neutralize the attackers, until the helicopters could arrive." Considering the experience with the downing of the Italian G-222 when U.S. rescue teams were escorted by F-18 fighter planes, such a scenario is very probable. All are aware of this in Bosnia and Serbia, especially the Yugoslav Army.

"Cut," orders Captain Kasberg. It is exactly 02:37 Bosnian time. Sergeant Black, at the back of the plane, wedged in between the crates and the wall is cutting a nylon rope securing the crates. Captain Kasberg has the plane nose up and the three of us have pushed the crates a little. In less than four seconds the whole load has rolled out. For the next ten seconds we see the crates floating under the parachutes in the moonlight, dropping quickly. "The time and place are right. I hope they won't hit anyone on the head," said the captain increasing speed and climbing up. The planes executes a series of manoeuvres and circles over the darkness in Bosnia and at 03:30 we are flying over Split. Peacetime rules apply once more.

In the pilot's cabin your reporter is having an interesting discussion with Captain Kasberg on the precision of the drops from this altitude. The easy going American pilot suddenly becomes vague and secretive. "Sorry, that's not public information." O.K. But we all know that reconnaissance satellites of the "Keyhole" type photograph the terrain in the morning, and who knows what else... "We are satisfied with the saturation density of the terrain." How high is the density? "...Mmm...if I miss the target by 200 meters, then that's great." From this altitude that's really great, but, you guessed it. "Classified information, sorry."

At 05:00 the four plane formation landed at the Rhein-Main airbase. With this flight, a total of 101.06 tons of food (93,312 meals) and 2.8 tons of medicine and medical equipment had been dropped over Eastern Bosnia. By the time this article was written (Thursday, March 11) a total of 304.9 tons of food and 8.6 tons of medicine had been dropped. There were no incidents or plane trouble. Political and military aspects aside, some hungry people (and bears) have been fed to some extent. From the human (and bear's) point of view, it was worth it.