Last year, I told you about my Air Force friend, the KC-135 Stratotanker pilot Capt. James Miller. I had the pleasure of talking to him recently. He told me about his 2014 deployment in support of Afghanistan’s presidential elections, a topic of particular interest to me since my fellow soldiers and I had helped secure Afghanistan’s elections a decade earlier.
Miller was co-pilot aboard his KC-135, conducting aerial refueling operations for A-10 ground attack planes over northern Afghanistan. It was an important mission because if there’s one thing the Taliban hate, it’s freedom, especially if women also have an opportunity to vote, so ground forces needed a lot of close air support from those A-10 Warthogs.
An A-10 flies low and slow, the better to rain down deadly, red-hot liberty on our enemies from its 30mm cannon. This means the KC-135 typically has to descend to provide fuel, but this was difficult in mountainous northern Afghanistan. Miller’s crew needed to descend into a valley low enough for the A-10s but with enough airspace to conduct refueling safely. The problem with the valley the crew located was that the surrounding mountains prevented communication with command and control.
It being election day, the Taliban were out in full force, so A-10s were sucking gas and spitting fire, sending those monsters straight to hell. Finally, Miller’s tanker approached bingo fuel, the minimum fuel required for the aircraft to return to base. As a replacement tanker descended into the valley, Miller’s crew ascended and contacted C2 for clearance to return. Suddenly, the replacement KC-135 declared a malfunction with its refueling boom. Without more gas, the A-10s would be forced to divert to whatever base they could find instead of returning to their own.
Since the malfunctioning KC-135 was in the valley, C2 was unable to receive its transmissions and knew nothing about the problem.
Miller realized they had to act fast. “We can give 20,000 pounds of fuel before we have to sky hook back to base.” Sky hooking is a procedure whereby the KC-135 climbs above 40,000 feet, where the thin air requires less fuel to fly. It involves certain risks to the aircraft, and the crew would require oxygen masks to breathe, but in the military, we often risk possible danger to help others avoid certain danger.
“You sure?” Miller’s commander said.
“I got this, boss,” said Miller.
Miller’s plane returned to the valley, calling the malfunctioning tanker to return to base. Miller radioed C2 to explain their plan.
“Stand by for further instructions,” C2 called.
Miller answered, “Unable. Call back in 30.” They descended into the valley.
“Good to see you guys again!” An A-10 pilot radioed. “Thanks for bailing us out!”
Miller’s team delivered as much fuel as they could and then climbed above 40,000 feet for a six-hour return trip. They had to fly slowly at that altitude, where the lower pressure made it easier to break the sound barrier, which could’ve caused their KC-135 serious problems. Finally, they landed safely at the base in Qatar after a very long day.
Miller never met the A-10 pilots he helped or the soldiers on the ground whom the A-10s help protect. He doesn’t know their names. They are all part of one large, important mission.
“Afghans are putting their ballots on the backs of donkeys to bring their vote down the mountain while the Taliban try to kill them,” Miller told me. “Women are fighting for their rights. That only exists because we’ve created an opportunity for them to vote. That’s what it’s all about. Democracy, man.”
I was in awe of Afghan men and women risking it all to vote for the first time in 2004, so I understood and admired the captain’s willingness to take a risk in his aircraft to help the pursuit of freedom a decade later.
Some names in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.
Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
