Today marks the twenty-first anniversary of a little known but fascinating slice of military history. On March 26th, 2003, the US Air Force exercised a rarely-used muscle when it aerially delivered 1,000 paratroopers of the 173rd Airborne Division into a desolate airstrip in Northern Iraq.
Operation Northern Delay leveraged the ingenuity and flexibility of airmen and soldiers to solve a peculiar operational problem just one week into what would become a generation-long war.
As the initial “shock and awe” of aerial attacks on Baghdad gave way to the strategic question of “ok, what next” … ground forces advancing from the south to properly secure the city faced the threat of several Iraqi Army divisions lurking to the north, operationally insulated to a degree by Turkey’s refusal to grant Allied overflight in the early days of the war.
Neutralizing the threat posed by these divisions and keeping the southern advance a single-front operation meant establishing a scaled threat and legitimate harassing force in the north.
Operation Northern Delay delivered enough force into Bashur Airfield to establish a secure lodgement, which would then be leveraged to deliver more mass into the area via frequent landings on the base’s 7,000-foot strip.
To achieve this, 15 C-17s from bases in South Carolina and Washington assembled at Aviano Air Base in Italy. There they loaded troopers from the 173rd and their gear, awaited nightfall, and flew from Italy to Iraq in formation, night vision equipment illuminating the way.
Arriving into the objective area, the formation descended, slowed down, and opened their doors, dispatching a mini-brigade of the world’s most heavily-armed street gang into a dark and muddy but relatively serene airfield.
The troopers organized themselves, secured a perimeter around Bashur’s austere trip, and prepared to receive a flow of materiel in the days and weeks ahead to grow Allied presence in the area. (As an interesting bit of trivia, the airfield didn’t last long before crumbling under the weight of frequent C-17 and C-130 deliveries over the subsequent weeks. Had it given way earlier, the problem for the US would have been much more complicated).
Their precious cargo delivered, the C-17s climbed out of the area and met up with aerial tankers to top themselves off before recovering to Italy.
Mission accomplished.
And a very cool mission at that. No one got hurt, the strategic landscape was improved, and the US Air Force had successfully dusted off an operating concept that hadn’t been used in anger since the invasion of Panama.
As the services commemorate the operation, you’ll hear relatively straightforward reporting which isn’t particularly interesting. Official reports generally get sanitized, tending toward circumspect propaganda.
But here are a few things you’re unlikely to read elsewhere that you might find interesting about Operation Northern Delay.
It wasn’t strictly necessary. Bashur sat astride a Kurdish stronghold and had already been secured by Peshmerga fighters. While the mission was combat by definition and required transiting contested airspace where enemy fire had been previously observed, the C-17s were not under elevated threat during the drop itself. The delivery of additional force into Northern Iraq over the following weeks did not require the 173rd to be aerially delivered.
Combat can be the ultimate training ground. When you see a military approach or method which seems like overkill, consider that it might be an opportune training exercise masquerading as a combat necessity. While the establishment of a force in Northern Iraq could have been achieved in other ways, the moment was a fantastic opportunity to hone a joint force skillset that might be required later in the war or in future wars. Seasoning soldiers and aircrews with a combat, large formation airdrop was a rare opportunity and a shrewd decision by commanders.
Combat is communication. Anyone watching, including future adversaries, noticed that the US military could deliver a potent mass of land force to an isolated point across continental boundaries, and could do so without needing convenient overflight or someplace nearby to land. And it could do so integrating with other aerial assets to create localized air superiority and safely transit contested airspace. Such messaging manipulates adversary calculus. It drives investment. It influences operational planning and decision making. It gives US forces the strategic initiative.
We learned a lot. There were mistakes and errors during the airdrop and in the planning beforehand. I won’t delve into the details of what went wrong because (a) I wasn’t there, and the story would be more credibly told by someone who was, and (b) the mistakes are not important, only the lessons. We learned a lot about delving deeper into objective area planning details and about roles, responsibilities, and team communication over the drop zone. These lessons were folded into tactical training courses and made airlift crews better. Pristinely planned and executed operations are nice, but we learn more from operational plot twists, especially when, as in this case, they do no harm to overall mission success.
It wasn’t the first airdrop in Northern Iraq. In the week between the kickoff of Operation Iraqi Freedom and the Bashur airdrop, special operations forces had already established a quiet and low-profile foothold in the region. The hilariously code-named Operation Ugly Baby situated a small but wickedly capable task force at a loosely connected web of key locations across Northern Iraq, dropping them in the dead of night from special purpose aircraft capable of getting into and out of dangerous airspace by applying special tactics, to include flight at extremely low altitude. Ugly Baby planted the seeds for scaled operations, and meant that Bashur’s Peshmerga perimeter defense was augmented by US military badasses.
Northern Delay served a number of important purposes. But most of all, it showcased the responsive and flexible capability of America’s largely unrecognized treasure: the high-velocity power projection it can achieve with air mobility.
An old friend of mine, remembering his experience in this operation, recounted how the Army’s first two jumpers that night were the highest ranking officer and enlisted solder in the formation. They went first to set the example.
If we take nothing more from commemorating this operation than an inspirational reminder about the courage and bravado of those who do our fighting for us, it will have been well worth reflecting on it.
TC is a veteran C-17 operator and squadron commander with more than 3,100 flying hours, including 400+ in combat. In 2006, he graduated with distinction from the US Air Force Weapons School, where curriculum included the lessons of Bashur.
This is a fantastic story, Tony. I’d love to hear more.
I especially dig the use of the tankers to more efficiently egress.
I wonder what happened there afterwards? Were any of my former RED HORSE or other engineers part of building out a more enduring presence there?
Great insights! Thanks!