During the Badgers’ Friday night season opener at Camp Randall Stadium, I received a call from the Air National Guard to report to the Crisis Action Team in Washington, D.C. — by Sunday.
The team had been launched to manage the Air Guard’s response to Hurricane Harvey — to oversee the airlift of critical supplies, conduct search and recovery, and assess competing priorities in crisis situations. The many players included Air and Army National Guard, the Air Force, Army, Navy, Marines and Coast Guard, state agencies and FEMA.
By the time Hurricane Irma formed in the Atlantic, the full-time staff needed relief. We “part-timers” were called in; I served as director of the Crisis Action Team.
Initially, our plan was to fly food and equipment to the Virgin Islands, but as Irma pummeled the islands, we lost communication with the airfield at St. Thomas. We needed a Plan B: To open an airfield already ravaged by the hurricane so that supplies could be delivered by large cargo airplanes. We needed special operations forces — a.k.a. “snake eaters” — and fast.
Luckily, we found a special operations unit in Kentucky. They would travel to Memphis and load their equipment — which included bulldozers, chainsaws and motorcycles — onto a Hawaii National Guard C-17. Over the Virgin Islands, the “snake eaters” would parachute out with their bulldozers and quickly make the airfield ready for use by clearing the runway and setting up a control tower.
Over the next few days, Air Guard units from around the nation would repeatedly answer our urgent calls for support. Nurses in Minnesota relieved groups of nurses and med techs from Oklahoma. Jets from Madison were used in missions to spot victims in need of rescue or recovery. Medical evacuation units from North Carolina rescued hospital patients in Key West and Alaska Guard cargo planes carried rescue helicopters to Alabama for rapid supply delivery, wherever needed.
This was a complex orchestra of efforts carried out by folks who likely had other plans, including parents who had hoped to see kids off on the first day of school. Instead, they stepped up, doing dangerous work with little to no notice.
The Air National Guard leads on domestic disaster response, cooperating with military and civilian counterparts at the state, federal and international levels. Guard personnel fill gaps where needed. As these missions are unclassified, I can share the stories about hurricanes Harvey and Irma. However, much of the daily work involving domestic protection from diverse threats is understandably sensitive or classified, and it is these countless stories that go untold.
The jet noise you might notice over Madison during the week is a byproduct of important, integrated training that happens at Truax: air defense tactics with air and ground units from Duluth, Minnesota; precisely timed aerial refueling with jets taking off simultaneously in Milwaukee; or low-level flying, an important skill whether searching for a hostile sniper on a rooftop in Syria or a hurricane survivor in desperate straits on a rooftop in Beaumont.
The men and women behind these efforts are assets to our community. They bring not only unique skill sets, experience and perspective, but, due to their training, they are often trusted leaders in complex situations.
I am not a member of the Wisconsin Air Guard. I write as a citizen of Madison who appreciates the Wisconsin Air Guard’s important role in domestic and international operations. And during crisis, I had the opportunity to witness their impact firsthand.
It’s no secret that Madison struggles with diversity. We often fail to embrace the value of our many, growing communities. We struggle to empathize with their concerns; we are often late to take action to address foundational issues. Our military community is no exception in this conversation.
In Madison, Air Guard personnel have been quiet, understated and humble. Over the last year, however, they have repeatedly informed us of a looming and credible threat to the future of their mission and their military base: their aging F-16 fleet. And now Madison is one of five cities in the running to get a new fighter jet, the F-35.
Despite the calls for local support from Air Guard personnel for this upgrade, some in Madison are skeptical of the ask and others reject the notion that the future of Truax is in any jeopardy. But as airplanes age, they become less capable, more difficult to maintain and harder to integrate into complex, interconnected operations. Old airplanes and their bases are most easily phased out.
Like hurricanes, base closures often do not come with advance notice or fanfare. They are results of decisions in Washington about military technology, geography, capability, budgetary concerns and are complicated by political considerations. It is never an exact science.
The value the Air Guard base brings to our state and country cannot be overstated. We should embrace our military community and address their concerns seriously. At the very least, we must be empathetic to the plight of our Guard personnel who, time and again, protect our interests at a moment’s notice.
Lt. Col. (Select) Mark Greene is an instructor pilot in the United States Air Forces in Europe. He is also chairman of Madison’s Economic Development Committee and director at SafetyNet, a division of CUNA Mutual.
