The ground war of Operation Desert Storm had begun barely 24 hours earlier. Coalition forces surged into Kuwait, aiming to shatter Iraqi defensive lines before they could solidify. Iraqi Republican Guard units—some of Saddam Hussein’s most capable formations—were racing south to establish hardened positions. Tank columns churned through smoke and sand, digging into revetments and preparing to blunt the American advance.
U.S. Marine units moving through the desert needed air cover that could do more than drop precision bombs from high alтιтude. They needed aircraft that could stay overhead, visually identify targets through haze and confusion, and strike repeatedly. They needed persistence.
That was the A-10 Thunderbolt II’s specialty.
While F-15s, F-16s, and F/A-18s delivered laser-guided munitions from 15,000 feet, the A-10 operated at a different alтιтude and tempo. It descended to 500 feet, slowed to roughly 300 knots, and prepared to use a weapon unlike any other in the sky—the GAU-8/A Avenger cannon.
The Avenger was not an accessory. It was the center of the aircraft’s existence. Seven barrels. Thirty millimeters. Nearly 3,900 rounds per minute. Each depleted uranium projectile capable of piercing armored steel before igniting ammunition stored inside a tank’s turret. When pilots squeezed the trigger, the recoil was so immense it slightly decelerated the aircraft mid-flight. The fuselage vibrated. Burnt powder seeped faintly into the cockpit even through oxygen masks.
Fairchild Republic had built the aircraft around this gun in the early 1970s. The GAU-8 measured 19 feet in length and weighed more than a compact car. Including ammunition, it accounted for roughly 16 percent of the A-10’s empty weight. Engineers added a тιтanium “bathtub” around the cockpit—1,200 pounds of armor designed to shield the pilot from 23mm anti-aircraft fire. Fuel tanks were self-sealing. Critical systems were duplicated. Engines were mounted high and apart to reduce vulnerability and shield them from ground fire.
The A-10 was not designed for speed. Its maximum velocity was slower than some World War II fighters. It was built for survivability and loiter time. It was meant to stay in the fight.
On the morning of February 25, Captain Eric Salomonson and Lieutenant John Marx launched at 6:20 a.m. over Kuwait. Almost immediately, Salomonson spotted movement—T-72 tanks advancing along a highway northeast of Kuwait City.
The first attack pᴀss relied on AGM-65 Maverick missiles. The lead tank exploded. A second missile found the next vehicle. Fire and smoke marked the column’s position. As missiles depleted, the pair transitioned to the Avenger cannon. Diving low, they targeted the thinner upper armor of the T-72s. Short bursts—one to two seconds—sent dozens of armor-piercing rounds into the vehicles.
Within 14 minutes, eight tanks were burning. The pilots returned to base, refueled, rearmed, and launched again.
By 10:45 a.m., they were deeper into Kuwaiti territory. Iraqi crews were alert now. ZSU-23-4 anti-aircraft systems opened fire, orange tracers streaking upward in lethal arcs. Salomonson felt impacts against his aircraft. The A-10 shuddered but held together.
He rolled into a defensive position and fired a two-second burst—about 70 rounds—into a tank dug into a revetment. It detonated. Marx alternated between missiles and cannon, exploiting confusion among Iraqi gunners struggling to track two low-flying attackers. Another eight tanks were destroyed.
They landed briefly. Refueled. Rearmed. Then lifted off once more.
By mid-afternoon, smoke from burning oil fields darkened the horizon. Visibility deteriorated. The pilots descended to around 300 feet to maintain visual contact. Along a stretch of highway near Kuwait City, seven more Iraqi tanks appeared scattered across several kilometers.
Missile stocks were low across the squadron. The cannon would finish the day’s work.
Pᴀss by pᴀss, they engaged the remaining targets. The Avenger’s distinctive growl echoed over the desert. Each engagement was deliberate. No wasted ammunition. No reckless maneuvering. When the final tank burned, they climbed to 2,000 feet and turned south.
By 4:45 p.m., after nearly 11 hours of combat flying across three separate missions, gun-camera footage confirmed the tally: 23 Iraqi tanks destroyed in a single day.
No pilot before or since has equaled that record.
Across the broader conflict—from January 17 to February 28, 1991—A-10s destroyed more than 900 Iraqi tanks, 2,000 additional military vehicles, and over 1,200 artillery pieces. Yet statistics alone did not capture the aircraft’s impact.
Captured Iraqi soldiers later described the sound of the A-10 as unmistakable—a low roar followed by a tearing noise as the cannon fired. Several recalled that by the time they identified the aircraft visually, their armored units were already burning.
The psychological weight of that presence mattered. The A-10 did not simply strike; it lingered. It returned. It pressed attacks until threats were neutralized.
Three decades later, debates about the aircraft’s future persist. Critics argue that modern integrated air defenses make low-alтιтude operations too risky and that multi-role stealth aircraft can ᴀssume the close air support mission. The U.S. Air Force has repeatedly proposed retiring the fleet.
Congress has repeatedly resisted.
Between 2001 and 2021, A-10s logged over 280,000 combat hours in Afghanistan and Iraq. Ground forces frequently requested them by name. Their ability to loiter, visually identify targets, and deliver precise cannon fire in close proximity to friendly troops proved difficult to replicate.
Upgrades have modernized avionics and wings, but the core elements remain unchanged: the тιтanium armor, the redundant systems, the mᴀssive cannon.
The Warthog was never elegant. It was not designed to win air shows or break speed records. It was built to survive hostile airspace and protect troops under fire.
On February 25, 1991, Eric Salomonson and John Marx demonstrated what that philosophy meant in combat. Twenty-three tanks. Three missions. One day.
The laughter aimed at the A-10 that morning did not last until sunset.
