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How I Almost Started World War III
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Having been trained and educated as an Air Police Specialist in the Air Force, I landed at Wheelus Air Base, Libya, for my first duty assignment at the relatively callow age of 19. So it was that, in January 1967, I was assigned to the 7272nd Air Police Squadron and began an 18-month tour. On June 5th of that year, when the alert klaxon screamed, I thought that it was just another practice exercise; but soon after arriving at headquarters, I leaned that it was the real thing.
Israel had begun a war with Egypt, Jordan and Syria. Since Israel was one of our few allies in the Middle East and Lyndon Baines Johnson was busy with Vietnam, we were left on our own. To add to our problems, the surrounding Arab countries were in league with the Soviet Union. However, as tenuous as our alliance was with Libya, they were asked to help us defend our property, as if we were politically neutral.
We evacuated all the civilians from the base, because a few Libyans decided to attack us. Much to their credit, the Libyan police were ordered, by King Idris, to help protect our base. It was then that it finally dawned upon me, that the Air Police were "ground pounders" actually, the "infantry of the Air Force."
History tells us that this conflict became known as "The Six Day War" but, to us ground pounders, it lasted much longer. We worked 12-hour shifts for a month and remained on alert status for another year.
In the first few days of the conflict, I was positioned on top of a tower at the Old Main Gate, a gate which hadn't been used for a decade. After nightfall, I assumed my post and laid on my back with my M-16, locked and loaded. If I heard anything, I turned over and was ready for action.
On one of those quiet, hot, desert nights, I saw headlights illuminating the inside walls of my tower. I rolled over onto my stomach and saw a truck, traveling at a high rate of speed, barreling toward the gate. I flipped the switch on the M-16 to fully-automatic and squinted through the sights. I intended to spray the truck and its occupants with a hail of hot lead. My finger was on the trigger, when the truck screeched to a halt, just short of the gate, and about seven Libyan policemen jumped out of it, yelling and blowing whistles. It turned out that they were stopping some individuals from throwing Molotov cocktails at us.
In the aftermath of that episode and after telling a superior what I almost did, he said, "What the fuck were you thinkin', boy? You could've started World War III!"
© 2007 by J. P. Johnson.
J. P. Johnson is a freelance writer and realtor. He is in the process of writing a novel. This is his first publication.
Having been trained and educated as an Air Police Specialist in the Air Force, I landed at Wheelus Air Base, Libya, for my first duty assignment at the relatively callow age of 19. So it was that, in January 1967, I was assigned to the 7272nd Air Police Squadron and began an 18-month tour. On June 5th of that year, when the alert klaxon screamed, I thought that it was just another practice exercise; but soon after arriving at headquarters, I leaned that it was the real thing.
Israel had begun a war with Egypt, Jordan and Syria. Since Israel was one of our few allies in the Middle East and Lyndon Baines Johnson was busy with Vietnam, we were left on our own. To add to our problems, the surrounding Arab countries were in league with the Soviet Union. However, as tenuous as our alliance was with Libya, they were asked to help us defend our property, as if we were politically neutral.
We evacuated all the civilians from the base, because a few Libyans decided to attack us. Much to their credit, the Libyan police were ordered, by King Idris, to help protect our base. It was then that it finally dawned upon me, that the Air Police were "ground pounders" actually, the "infantry of the Air Force."
History tells us that this conflict became known as "The Six Day War" but, to us ground pounders, it lasted much longer. We worked 12-hour shifts for a month and remained on alert status for another year.
In the first few days of the conflict, I was positioned on top of a tower at the Old Main Gate, a gate which hadn't been used for a decade. After nightfall, I assumed my post and laid on my back with my M-16, locked and loaded. If I heard anything, I turned over and was ready for action.
On one of those quiet, hot, desert nights, I saw headlights illuminating the inside walls of my tower. I rolled over onto my stomach and saw a truck, traveling at a high rate of speed, barreling toward the gate. I flipped the switch on the M-16 to fully-automatic and squinted through the sights. I intended to spray the truck and its occupants with a hail of hot lead. My finger was on the trigger, when the truck screeched to a halt, just short of the gate, and about seven Libyan policemen jumped out of it, yelling and blowing whistles. It turned out that they were stopping some individuals from throwing Molotov cocktails at us.
In the aftermath of that episode and after telling a superior what I almost did, he said, "What the fuck were you thinkin', boy? You could've started World War III!"
© 2007 by J. P. Johnson.
J. P. Johnson is a freelance writer and realtor. He is in the process of writing a novel. This is his first publication.
