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Lifeline to Afghanistan

The green and white lights in the C-17 Globemaster's massive cargo compartment go dark, replaced by the glow from a string of dim red bulbs.

Captain James Sprys with the Air Force C17 cargo jet at Ramstein Air Base in Germany during the crew's mission to deliver supplies to Afghanistan. (Laurence Kesterson / Staff Photographer)
Captain James Sprys with the Air Force C17 cargo jet at Ramstein Air Base in Germany during the crew's mission to deliver supplies to Afghanistan. (Laurence Kesterson / Staff Photographer)Read more

The green and white lights in the C-17 Globemaster's massive cargo compartment go dark, replaced by the glow from a string of dim red bulbs.

It is 1 a.m., 30,000 feet over Afghanistan. No sense making the plane an easy target against the dark sky.

"Can I have your attention? We are starting our combat entry," says a voice over a public-address system.

Army troops quickly don flak jackets, and Air Force crew members strap on sidearms while the pilots in the armored cockpit put on night-vision goggles to scan the ground for flashes of light that might be gunfire.

Capt. Dave Gaulin of Cherry Hill guides the mammoth $200 million aircraft toward a glowing spot in the clouds, lit by runway lights below.

He and Capts. Chris Zielinski of Center City and James Sprys of Marlton are minutes away from Bagram Air Base, part of a sprawling American military presence in the shadow of the snow-capped Hindu Kush Mountains.

Their plane - flying last week with Army soldiers, Air Force airmen, and tons of supplies - is part of a long lifeline, a kind of Berlin Airlift that sustains the base, the 4,000 airmen at adjacent Camp Cunningham, and other U.S. troops battling the Taliban.

"These people aren't too friendly toward us," says the 28-year-old Gaulin, a veteran pilot and overall commander of the mission who has flown into Afghanistan about 70 times and into Iraq another 70.

"Some people say flying into a war zone is crazy. But it's something that someone has to do to keep those folks on the ground supplied and get them out when their time is done there."

Leaving homes and families in South Jersey and Philadelphia, the pilots and crew members regularly make vital flights that take them from McGuire Air Force Base "down-range" to combat areas of landlocked Afghanistan.

Their physically exhausting efforts have become increasingly important as supply lines are threatened: Nearby Kyrgyzstan has asked the U.S. to leave its base there in six months, and Taliban forces have stepped up attacks on NATO columns and shipping terminals in Khyber and Peshawar in Pakistan.

Making the cargo missions even more crucial is President Obama's approval last month of adding 17,500 troops to the 36,000 already in Afghanistan. Those Marines and soldiers will arrive in a few months as the Taliban begins an expected spring offensive and presidential elections are held in August.

"You just feel that you are part of the bigger picture," says 26-year-old Capt. Sprys. "It's easy to think you are a small piece of the puzzle, but when it comes down to it, the stuff we're carrying over into theater is going to be put to use, and the quicker we get it there, the better off it will be."

Simply put, the cargo "helps the guys on the ground do the up-front mission," adds the 29-year-old Zielinski.

As the three pilots look from cockpit windows Monday and the C-17 emerges from wispy clouds, they see runway lights stretching ahead of them. They are flying into the open end of a horseshoe-shaped section of the mountains surrounding the airfield.

"One way in, one way out," says Sprys.

Clumps of snow cover the ground on parts of the base, the temperature is in the 30s, and ground crews wait for the special delivery.

"Welcome to Afghanistan!" says Sprys.

'The pressure is on'

The grueling flights that eventually carried the McGuire Air Force crew more than 13,000 miles to at least three countries began with meticulous planning in New Jersey.

It was late afternoon on Friday, Feb. 20. The six active-duty members of the Sixth Airlift Squadron in the 305th Air Mobility Command stood around a long table at the squadron's building at McGuire to go through a full briefing and a checklist of small essentials.

All of the crew members wore patches on their tan uniforms identifying them as members of the "Bully Beef Express," a nickname earned during World War II when the squadron carried tons of boiled beef to troops throughout the South Pacific.

Their six-day mission: Fly to Ramstein Air Base in Germany, Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, and "an undisclosed location in Southwest Asia," then head back to Ramstein and, ultimately, home.

Along the way, the plane would pick up and drop off Army troops and airmen and deliver a jet engine for a KC-135 air-refueling tanker and rotor blades for a CH-53 Marine helicopter.

The crew - including 39-year-old Master Sgt. Brian Cook of Medford, 23-year-old Senior Airman Christine Condoleon of Manahawkin, N.J., and 31-year-old Technical Sgt. Stephen Cochling of Fort Dix - would fly a C-17 Globemaster III, a gray behemoth, tail number 44128.

"The pressure is on for me, huh?" said Sprys, who was running the mission under the supervision of Gaulin, an instructor pilot and graduate of Syracuse University who has been flying C-17s for about five years.

By 8:27 p.m., with four jet engines revving and the fuselage pulsating with their power, the C-17 blasted down the runway for Germany. Nine hours and 3,384 miles later, it was on its final approach to the huge base there.

"Ramstein is a sight to see," said Sprys, a military brat who graduated from the Air Force Academy.

After an Air Force-mandated rest, the crew members left their motel Sunday in Ramstein Village for the air base - and the next leg of their mission: a 61/2-hour flight to Bagram.

Amid a dizzying array of cockpit instruments, Zielinski watched Germany fall away beneath the plane as it ascended through gauzy white clouds.

At their destination, the weather was expected to be foggy, visibility poor.

"Night plus fog is good," said Sprys.

"You can't shoot what you can't see," added Gaulin, whose plane was the target of insurgents during a 2005 landing in Iraq.

Like a NASCAR pit crew

The slow descent toward Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan began shortly before 1 a.m.

"The long days are the same thing over and over again," said Cook, a loadmaster who is in charge of making sure the cargo is properly restrained and weight evenly distributed.

"I've been to 70 countries. It used to be that our missions were more diverse," said Cook. "That's changed since Afghanistan and Iraq. Now, the missions are more concentrated" in one area of the world.

Fourteen members of the 709th Military Police Battalion - stationed in Germany - were sitting on fold-down seats along the fuselage or sleeping on the floor of the plane when the red lights came on, casting the cargo area in an eerie glow.

The troops are the first of 75 in the unit deployed to teach policing skills to the Afghans.

The MPs and seven Air Force personnel, including an F-15 pilot, fastened seat belts and put on flak jackets.

In the cargo compartment, Condoleon, a loadmaster, announced the "combat entry" over the public-address system.

Some of the planes have been fired on as they headed in to land.

"The red lights are the least detectable color of light when we're flying," said Condoleon.

The plane - carrying 540,000 pounds of cargo and fuel - touched down without incident and rocketed down the runway at Bagram. A few weeks earlier, another C-17 was badly damaged when it made a wheels-up landing there.

"The most important thing is getting [the cargo] off the jet fast and getting off the ground as soon as possible," said Condoleon.

The troops and airmen filed out of the plane while building trusses were removed from the rear by a "60K-loader," a vehicle that looked like a flatbed railroad car.

Such deliveries are especially necessary now because of the pressure on supply lines. More than 300 NATO vehicles and containers were destroyed over the last several months in attacks on shipping terminals in Peshawar and on convoys moving through Pakistan.

Nearby, Cochling, the crew chief who maintains the plane's mechanical systems, climbed a ladder to add oil to each of the four jet engines. "It is kind of the same thing as a NASCAR unit," he said.

Capt. Darrick Lee, a McGuire spokesman, was getting his first look at his new assignment. After some more training, the 37-year-old Westampton man will return to Afghanistan in June to be part of a provincial reconstruction team.

"My wife wishes I wouldn't go, but she understands," said Lee, who has a 6-year-old son.

In about 21/2 hours, the plane was ready to take off. The red lights were flipped on again and crew members put on flak vests as the C-17 zoomed down the runway.

At an 'undisclosed location'

About breakfast time Monday, the McGuire crew ended the 1,300-mile flight out of Afghanistan and arrived in "the undisclosed location in Southwest Asia," a sandy, monotone world covered by a massive air base. Crew members bunked in a tent and slept for hours.

The KC-135 jet engine and helicopter blades they'd carried were removed and a truck and trailer were driven up inside the C-17, which also was loaded with pallets of other equipment.

By 1:30 a.m. Tuesday, the crew was ready to leave again for the trip back to Ramstein. In the cockpit, crew members put on dark glasses to protect themselves against laser lights that have been trained on the cockpits of planes from the ground.

"They call them the Elvis Presley glasses," said Cochling with a laugh.

"These would look good in a nightclub in Philly," said Zielinski.

"If you see anything, say, 'Eyes inside,' " Sprys said. "All right, here we go!"

The plane lifted off and followed a course over Bahrain, Kuwait and Iraq. "That glow [in the clouds] is Iran," said Gaulin, as the plane passed over ships lit up in the dark water below.

After about seven hours and 2,500 miles, the Globemaster touched down in Germany. The following day, refueled and deiced, it roared off the runway about 9 a.m. for an eight-hour flight to New Jersey.

The plane flew at about 34,000 feet over white clouds that seemed thick enough to land on.

It passed Newfoundland - where the crew could see ice in the ocean, like broken glass - and eventually headed down the East Coast toward McGuire.

"Ah, it's good to be back in the States!" Zielinski said.

About noon Wednesday, the crew was 3,000 feet over the Pinelands and preparing to land.

"Mission accomplished," said Sprys.

Just another workday for members of the McGuire crew. "We could end up doing this again," said Gaulin, "in a couple weeks."

To see a video and a slide show of the supply run to Afghanistan, go to http://go.philly.com/supplyplane EndText