THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 9, 1995 TAG: 9504070219
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 12 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Cover Story
SOURCE: BY LANE DEGREGORY, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 138 lines
IT BEGAN AS a roaring rumble in the clouds, somewhere from the south, invisible, growing louder with the inevitable approach.
Then, the silver nose of an A-10 Thunderbolt II jet sliced the sky just overhead. The plane's metal belly slid open. A long, black bomb plummeted toward the tower where Cecil Lewis was watching, waiting.
``Only missed by 'bout 12 meters that time,'' Lewis said excitedly as the flat-winged fighter turned back for another pass. ``If that bomb'd been live, that truck, or tank, or whatever was down there would've been history.
``Military calls those planes tank killers,'' said Lewis, smiling. ``In Desert Storm, they shot uranium bullets that'd pierce right through armor like it was nothin' but butter.''
Lewis, a former Army officer who wears a copper bomb charm on a gold chain around his neck, has been the air traffic control manager of Dare County's Air Force Bombing Range for 20 years. Each week, he guides about 200 planes through training maneuvers above the swampy, 46,000-acre complex. Military pilots from Georgia to South Dakota rely on his skills.
``This is supposed to be the Cadillac of bombing ranges on the East Coast,'' Lewis said from atop a 50-foot tower where he keeps watch over the aircraft. ``We maintain our targets well. We provide more of a variety for the pilots to practice on. And we can give these guys great realism for combat practice.
``Things they experience out here could save a pilot if he actually gets into real warfare.''
Opened in 1964 on a marshy bog that abuts U.S. 264, the bombing range is about 20 miles west of Stumpy Point and 16 miles east of Englehard on the Dare County mainland. More than 50 people, less than half of whom are in the military, are employed at the remote facility. Most live on the Outer Banks and commute an hour to work.
The range is owned and controlled by the Air Force and has a $1.5 million annual budget. Primarily, it serves as practice grounds for pilots flying out of Seymour Johnson Air Force Base in Goldsboro. Planes stationed at Langley, Oceana and Pope military bases also use the bombing area regularly. Army, Navy and Marine aircraft do special training there, too. And some squads have flown in from as far away as Indiana.
From F-16 Falcons to C-130s to state-of-the-art stealth fighters, at least 14 different types of aircraft can fire at 18 individual targets on the range. Most of the planes cost upward of $20 million each. Most of the pilots are between 25 and 40 years old.
Aircraft can shoot bullets at three separate set-ups, track infrared heat sources to find potential enemies, or drop bombs ranging from 25 to 500 pounds on a variety of bull's-eyes.
``They're bombs only in name,'' Lewis said. ``They're filled with concrete and have shotgun shells in their noses. They fall at the same rate as real bombs. They mimic what it would be like to drop a bomb on a certain site. But they don't have that same explosive power.''
Besides guiding the planes up to 20,500 feet overhead, Lewis also helps track the pilots' target practices. Many military fliers are required to complete at least two training tactics per week - some as many as two each day. Maneuvers range from staging surprise attacks on ground targets to dodging miniature rockets.
``We like to give the pilots real-life experiences. So sometimes we shoot Smokey SAMS at 'em, little rockets that go about 1,000 feet high, to increase realism,'' Lewis said. ``We want to get them trained to look out the windows and notice these things. It's important if you've never been in combat. It's something you really need to get used to.''
With cameras and computers, Lewis and two other bombing range workers track the military flights and the path of each bullet fired, each bomb dropped. They plot the hits and misses on grids so the pilots can see their scores. Most pilots also carry video cameras to record their own maneuvers.
Although he talks to them every day, Lewis seldom sees a pilot face-to-face. No planes are stationed at the bombing range. The Dare County facility doesn't even have a fueling station or runway.
``Only people we see out here are each other,'' said Joe Lafferty, whose Dynamic Science Corp. employs 30 non-military contractors that help run the range. ``Lots of wildlife, too. We've had geese, deer, dogs, even an alligator who used to live out here.''
Dynamic Science has operated the bombing facility since 1991. One of the company's primary functions, Lafferty said, is to maintain the targets and extensive grounds. Each year, workers mow more than 500 acres of marsh. The first year Lafferty was at the facility, his crew hauled more than 200 tons of ammunition off the range. Most bombs and bullets simply sink into the 18-foot-deep peat bog and disappear. Military crews now come twice annually to clean up whatever remains.
``The location out here is great; it's so remote and far from civilization,'' Lafferty said. ``But the ground is really tough to work with because it's so soft. When they made this place, they used this specially designed machine to stomp down 2,500 acres of bog. They tried to crush it into something solid with these big, metal plates.
``But I've watched tractors sink 18 feet into that stuff like a mole tunneling under dirt. No one can walk out there alone for fear of disappearing,'' Lafferty said. ``When we work on the targets, we have to go with someone - and let others know where we'll be.''
In addition to providing targets for bullets and bombs, the Dare County range also offers a unique opportunity for military planes to practice electronic warfare.
Two dozen Air Force officers operate an Electronic Combat station in two trailers on the range. Pilots tell the officers what kind of threat they want to combat, or what kind of conflict they want to be engaged in. Then the operators send signals over computers and radar screens to simulate surface-to-air missiles, anti-aircraft artillery or any of 50 different threats that an enemy might use in an attack.
``The pilots see guns or missiles attacking them on their screens. Then they have to react to whatever is out there,'' said Air Force Master Sgt. William A. Place, who oversees the electronic warfare station. ``We measure their reaction time - and whether they gave the correct reaction.''
The electronic combat station is one of only 16 such facilities in the country. Combined with the bombing range, the two military training sites are among the best in the nation, officers said. Anyone who uses the bombing range also is authorized to engage in electronic warfare.
``There aren't as many of these practice ranges left as there used to be. So the ones that are still operating - and especially the ones that are upgrading - are really getting a lot of increased use,'' Lafferty said.
``There's no way to gain real combat experience without actually being in combat. But short of that, there's nothing quite like getting shot at - even electronically - to bring all the lessons home,'' said Lafferty. ``We can simulate a lot of things out here on the range. It's the best training pilots can get without going to war.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photos by DREW C. WILSON
Home on the Range [Color cover photo]
Recorder Coley Gibbs, foreground, and Joe Lafferty look over the
vast open area of the Air Force Bombing Range from a tower where
scoring of bomb drops are performed.
ABOVE: An A-10 Warthog drops four 500-pound practice bombs on the
range. LEFT: A Warthog opens fire with its machine guns.
Recorder Coley Gibbs spots smoke from a bomb drop at the Air Force's
range in remote Dare County.
by CNB