When Mary Jo met Chuck at the door, the questions started, as they always did when they met after an absence. But Horner could give her no answers. He was returning from a chat with the President of the United States and was about to leave home for an undetermined amount of time in a strange and distant country, but he still couldn’t talk about it. She was still asking questions as they kissed hello. He told her he needed to pack some things, and she helped him pack enough underwear and clothes for a two-day trip. Nine months later, when he returned, the shorts were worn out. As he packed, he whistled and sang the way he always did when he was about to go off and slay dragons. Mary Jo always hated it when he packed, because she knew that she was going to be left behind.

★ When General Schwarzkopf told Horner he could take one person on the trip to Saudi, he probably expected him to bring his aide, Jim Hartinger, or his executive officer, Colonel George Gitchell. But Chuck Horner’s thought process was different. He said to himself, If you’re going to a war, and you can only take one person, who would you take?

The answer was obvious—his logistician. There are three kinds of staff people who are never heroes, but without whom a commander is dead in wartime:his intelligence, communications, and logistics chiefs. He can limp along in peacetime with less than capable people in those slots, but he’s dead if there is any weakness there when the shooting starts. There is great truth in the old adage that amateur warriors study tactics, and that professionals study logistics. So Horner called his own command’s logie, Colonel Bill Rider, and told him to pack his bags for the Middle East, and to be prepared for the deployment and beddown of some fighter squadrons in the CENTCOM area of responsibility.

“Yes, sir,” he answered, “I’ll meet you at the plane.”

★ The next morning, Chuck Horner woke up the way he had many times before, eager as a bird dog before a hunt.

His goodbye kiss with Mary Jo was as special as he could make it. She still didn’t know he was leaving for war, and he wasn’t sure himself; but he couldn’t get out of his head the times when he’d left for Vietnam. Each time they’d both had serious doubts about whether they would see each other again. When he’d gone as a “Wild Weasel,” the odds had been high that he’d be killed or captured, leaving her with two kids and rapidly receding support from her Air Force family.

This day, he knew, was another such moment of truth in their marriage.