National Security: Buffer zone

The recent downing of a Russian SU-24 Fencer fighter by two Turkish Air Force F-16s brought to mind the importance of buffer zones and airspace management. Aviators routinely deal with this business, whether they are flying combat or through peacetimes skies, but the problem intensifies and becomes more risky under wartime conditions. I first became acquainted with buffer zones flying in Korea four decades ago. You did not want to stray into North Korean airspace; they would as soon shoot as look at you. Accordingly, we had a buffer zone south of the 38th parallel DMZ. If we mistakenly flew anywhere close to the buffer zone, the radios would go crazy shouting warnings. We had all sorts of positively control when we got within 25 miles of the buffer zone protecting the DMZ, but when you’re covering a thousand feet per second, it doesn’t take long to fly astray and get into trouble. In the late spring of 1972 when we resumed flying over North Vietnam following a four year hiatus, there initially wasn’t a buffer zone between North Vietnam and China. Following a few incursions and near misses, a buffer zone was soon reinstated to keep Air Force and Navy fighters from busting into Chinese airspace. I might have been one of the guilty parties in late May 1972. Jim Beatty and I were flying along what we called the “northeast railroad” which linked China to Hanoi. The weather was terrible – cumulus nimbus clouds everywhere topping out at 40 thousand feet. We were ‘turning and burning,’ simply trying to stay out of the clouds and in clear air space, away from the guns and missiles shooting at us. Navigation with ground references was all but impossible. Did we stray too far northward into Chinese airspace? My inertial navigation computer said we did, but the INS did drift over time and wasn’t terribly reliable. Regardless, in less than a week, a set of three “Waterloo” buffer zones were established south of the Chinese border and our airspace manager (Red Crown) would start screaming to us over guard channel (UHF 243.0) when anyone got close to entering the buffer zone. It was tough enough with the North Vietnamese shooting at you; the last thing you wanted to do was add the Red Chinese to the mix of hostile defenses. Later flying in Europe, we got very used to buffer zones between NATO countries and those of the Warsaw Pact. Rarely did we ever get close to that forbidden border. The stakes for a mistake were too high. It is hard for me to believe there isn’t a buffer zone between Syria and Turkey, or for that matter, the other nations which border Syrian airspace. I’ll guarantee that the Israeli’s have one that’s strictly enforced and probably the Jordanian’s as well. The question is: who manages that airspace and who observes the buffer zones? The airspace over war-torn Syria is extremely complicated with literally a dozen antagonists. Assad still has an air force but most of his air cover is being provided by ally Russia. The surrounding nations of Turkey, Israel and Jordan all have air forces of excellent caliber. The US Air Force and Navy are regularly flying over enemy territory. The French are now bombing ISIS targets in Syria in the wake of the recent Paris attacks. The Brits are about to join in. Goodness knows how many Gulf Region air forces are joining in the fray with so much at stake. How many different languages are being spoken over the same radio frequencies? My head hurts when I think of how complicated the airspace management is and who is trying to take leadership in this protracted campaign. The ROE (rules of engagement) must be terribly complicated for all who are required to follow them. At least, the flying weather is generally excellent; that works in the favor of otherwise harried fighter pilots. To some extent, I’m surprised there haven’t been more incidents like the Russian-Turkish fray. I’m glad I’m not flying there today. There are a lot of dangerous warplanes armed to the teeth flying different flags mixing it up at high speed in a small airspace. In retrospect, it makes our job flying over Hanoi in 1972 look relatively simple.