Runway Incursions The Ground View

Flying Safety, July, 2001 by Glen E. Christensen

One of our mobile security teams entered the controlled movement area without permission from the air traffic controller.

First off: I'm a grunt (a ground pounder, a support weenie, whatever you like) writing an article for a flying magazine. That may be bad enough, but this grunt has a few words on the importance of avoiding runway incursions. So, all you "zipper-suited sun gods" (pilots) and "scope dopes" (air traffic controllers), pay attention.

Do I have your attention now? Outstanding! Did I offend you? I apologize; please don't take it to heart. I have developed a profound respect for the awesome responsibility aircrews and air traffic controllers live with each and every day. More importantly, in the course of researching and writing this article, I've also come to realize two things: (1) Runway incursions threaten the safety of airfield operations; and (2) Runway incursions are everyone's problem, and it's everyone's responsibility to prevent them.

Here's how my interest in runway incursions developed. During the first six of my almost eight-year Air Force career, I lived comfortably with the fact that the United States Air Force was created to support the USAF security forces. It seemed obvious to me that the reason we had 1000-plus missiles on alert was so the northern frontier of our great country could be dominated by the finest trained peacekeepers in the world. Air Force bases were not established to provide for military air power; rather, they were built so the security forces gate guard would have somewhere to stand, and the law enforcement patrolman would have somewhere to patrol.

"...Sounded Kind of Serious"

One day, while sitting in my operations officer's office, I overheard a conversation between my boss and the Operations Group Deputy Commander. It seems we (the SFs) had caused a runway incursion. At the time I had no idea exactly what that was, but it sounded pretty bad. One of our mobile security teams entered the controlled movement area without permission from the air traffic controller. I admit it sounded kind of serious, but I truly thought the operations group was over-reacting. Not only did they want to pull the flight line driver's license from the suspected violator; they also expected some form of administrative punishment.

Once I heard the facts, I was sure those silly aviation types had once again lost their minds. Further investigation revealed the troop in question was following one of the VC-25 aircraft (more commonly known as Air Force One when the president is aboard). The troop contacted Central Security Control (CSC) and asked them to use the direct line to the tower and inform them that he would be following the aircraft into the movement area. The tower controller informed the CSC controller that unless the security patrol contacted the tower directly, he would not receive permission to enter the movement area. Unfortunately, the security patrol did not have the tower's frequency, so direct contact with the tower was impossible. Faced with the dilemma of either causing this "thing" known as a runway incursion or compromising the security of Air Force One, the security troop did exactly what he had been trained to do. He continued and caused the dreaded incursion. I thought to myself, "What's the big deal?" I further surmised that (obviously) the tower controller was a power-hungry thug. Why else would he be so insistent on talking directly with one of our guys? We never had to do that before.

When all was said and done, the troop did not lose his license, nor did he receive administrative punishment. What we did find out, though, was that six days before the incident the wing leadership had put out a base instruction that stated every ground support vehicle wishing to enter the controlled movement area must be in direct contact with the tower. Not a problem. We didn't have the frequency, but we could sure get it. It took a little effort, but the communications folks hooked us up, and we were in compliance with the new guidance. I was sure this was the end of the problem. Unfortunately, I was very, very mistaken.

First of Five

The aforementioned incursion was the first in what would become a string of five runway incursions. Over time, incursions were becoming so frequent that our wing commander was forced to become personally involved. When the second runway incursion occurred, the wing king directed the operations group commander to brief every troop in the wing on what, exactly, the movement area was and what procedures must be adhered to when operating within it. Additionally, each of the other group commanders was directed to follow this initial briefing with briefings of their own. Finally, the Operations Support Squadron (OSS) was given the lead in forming a working group with representatives from every work center that operated in and around the airfield. By this point, I had moved up from flight commander to operations officer, which made me the security forces representative to the working group. This tasking would prove to be the beginning of the end of my beautifully delusional world. Like all security forces that prec eded me, I would soon realize there was a world bigger than the SF shield out there. I was about to view what I have come to know as the "big picture."