Section A
Gina Stafford, News-Sentinel staff writer
The Knoxville News-Sentinel, 28 April 1999
1,034 words, English
SOMEWHERE OVER ALBANIA -- Controls in his hands, focus on his mind, Jim Quagliana lay there and watched as the "Wild Weasels" got closer.
Bumping elbows and knees from media onlookers crowding alongside him in the boom pod were no match for the concentration Quagliana summoned to the task.
He was not distracted. He was refueling U.S. Air Force F-16 fighter jets, nicknamed "Wild Weasels."
Senior Master Sgt. Quagliana is a refueling boom operator for the Tennessee Air National Guard's 134th Air Refueling Wing.
"It's hand-eye coordination big time, and it never gets routine to me," Quagliana said. "The worst thing you can do is take things for granted. Complacency is more an enemy to us than the bad guys.
"And it's a team effort. It takes two pilots, a navigator and me to make all this work -- and you have to factor in receivers, too."
In refueling-speak, receivers are the aircraft that get the fill-ups.
On Tuesday's run, those were F-16s based at Spangdalem, Germany.
The rest of the 134th's part of the team was comprised of pilot Major Bob Hamilton, co-pilot Major Kelvin Kuwik and navigator Capt. Howard Roberts.
Hamilton and Roberts live in Knoxville. Kuwik is from Maryville.
Roberts worked from maps titled, "NATO SECRET/Adriatic Routes."
All four crew members removed patches embroidered with their names and that of their units from their flight suits.
"That's called sterilization," Kuwik explained. "Nothing to identify who we are if we were to be captured."
About 2 1/2 hours after takeoff from Rhein-Main Air Base in Germany, the Tennesseans were flying over snow-capped mountains in Southern Albania. The snow appeared to be preserved courtesy of some low-hanging clouds snagged by a mountain peak here and there.
Suddenly, the view's spell was broken.
"We've got business," Quagliana says, noting that an F-16 is about three miles back. It comes into view 30 seconds later, with three others close behind.
The first approaches the lowered boom slowly, ever-so-slightly weaving in the wind.
The latter three wait their turn in formation at the tanker's wing tips. At one wing, a jet goes solo. The other two fly stacked off the other wing.
From the spire on its needle nose to the tip of its tail fin, the Air Force's F-16 "Fighting Falcon" commands attention.
But it was the sight of three pairs of missiles under the fighter's wings that caused the most commotion on Tuesday.
Live and deadly, there they were: heat-seeking Sidewinder and Sparrow missiles, plus anti-radiation HARM missiles.
Should ground radar be used to spot the fighter, Quagliana explained, the HARM missile "locks on" to the beam and speeds to its source.
"That's why the Serbians are attempting to shoot missiles optically," he said. "It's less accurate, but they know using radar might make them a target for those missiles."
As for what the fighters were doing in daylight on Tuesday afternoon, Quagliana said they could have been patrolling, protecting military surveillance aircraft.
"But their primary mission is finding surface-to-air missile sites and eradicating them," he said. "They probably know where some of those SAM sites are, and they're going to find them."
Two minutes and about 8,000 gallons later, the first jet is refueled. Of course, two more hours in the air, and it'll be getting low again.
Looking down at the pilot, Quagliana gives a thumbs up and "good luck salute," letting the pilot know he's good to go.
After gassing up, each jet returns to formation flying off the tanker's wings until the fourth is finished and all leave together.
The practice is standard, Kuwik said.
"That's because there's nobody else in the cockpit with them," he said. "They rely heavily on the buddy system, and they usually fly in formations of at least two ships or more."
A few minutes later, it's time for the mission's second quartet of F-16s.
To serve the two groups of four, the tanker spends about 45 minutes in the "refueling track" -- a rectangle in the air -- over Southern Albania.
At the same time, refueling was going on in the same track at other altitudes.
Finally, Quagliana has pumped his last tank. The fighter pilot -- unrecognizable in a helmet, dark goggles and oxygen mask -- looks up through the glass bubble over his cockpit at Quagliana.
"Thanks for the good work," the pilot says on radio as the plane falls away. "I appreciate it."
Back home in Maryville, Quagliana is a full-time Guardsman who trains others on the boom. He has been with the Guard for 23 years. He's flown missions to Turkey, Southwest Asia and the United Arab Emirates.
"This is becoming more the norm, going far from home in support of these," he said. "Since Desert Storm kicked off (in 1991), it hasn't slowed for us much."
Married to his wife, Janet, for 12 years, he said he misses her and their family. Enjoying camaraderie with Guard buddies and going up on refueling runs will help the current two-week stint pass more quickly, he added.
On the job, every day's a new chance to focus.
"Like an instructor of mine once told me, it isn't how you did yesterday that matters," Quagliana said. "Today is what counts."
Gina Stafford may be reached at 423-521-8151 or stafford@knews.com.
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