88 CEG snow team ensures mission success Published March 12, 2026 By Christopher Decker 88th Air Base Wing Public Affairs WRIGHT-PATTERSON AIR FORCE BASE, Ohio -- Eight-year-old me loved snow days. And it wasn’t just the whole “wicked awesome, no school, we rule” thing. It was more about embracing the immortality of youth with my friends and immersing ourselves in the cold outdoors. We would spend hours in freezing temps performing acrobatic maneuvers in fast-moving sleds, slinging snowballs at everything or everyone that looked like a target, and digging interconnected caverns into the giant snowbanks created by Mister Plow. The worst part of any snow day back then was shedding all the sopping wet layers at the door with numb fingers so we could eat. A 1981 Vermont snow day provided a limitless playground for our imagination. Now, four-plus decades later, I’m far less fond of the snow day. I don’t see limitless play. I see limitless work. The cold immediately seeps into my bones. And consequence-free, all-day snow play is definitely a thing of the past. Now an hour of constant shoveling in the driveway requires two hours of lying down and 600 milligrams of ibuprofen to soothe my sciatica. Fortunately, I can afford to lie down after just an hour combating Mother Nature. The men and women of the 88th Civil Engineer Group don’t have that luxury. “Our mission is to minimize the impact of any weather-related event on base,” states Harold Honeycutt, the supervisor of Wright-Patt’s Pavements, Equipment, and Ground Shop. “If we don't do our job, nobody else can do theirs. They can't get to their office, they can't get to the airfield, unless we get these streets cleaned. And It's not just about getting there. It's about getting there safely. That's our mission.” Harold’s team is responsible for basically any horizontal patch of ground on the base. And they prepare for that responsibility by adjusting the work schedule in early November because a single inch of the fluffy stuff can activate snow mode. Airmen from the 88th Civil Engineering Squadron conduct snow removal operations around the installation at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, Jan. 26, 2026. Civil engineers operate specialized snow-removal equipment to clear runways, taxiways, and critical infrastructure to ensure safe and continuous flight operations following winter weather. (U.S. Air Force photo by Jack Gardner) Photo Details / Download Hi-Res “When we go into 12-hour shifts, two shifts, all hands-on deck. We're mission essential for snow,” explains Honeycutt. “If there's un-forecasted snow, there's always somebody here that can react, hit the airfield, hit the streets, make sure everybody's safe, and the mission's complete as possible.” The 24-hour response will last until spring hits. That’s a long, arduous season of stand-by that really ratchets up the stress when the snow finally does hit. “You're basically working 12 to 13 hour days,” reiterates Greg Wheelock, the Chief of Heavy Repair. “And at the end of that shift, if you want to go home then you gotta travel in that weather.” While Harold focuses on organizing and equipping the men and women piling precipitation, Greg provides top cover and coordination. He works with the snow controller to collate all the updates. He’s in constant communication with the base weather team and Snow One in the airfield operations tower. He answers incoming questions from both wing leadership and the other mission essential personnel on duty. And he joins Harold’s team clearing a path. “Yeah, we kind of juggle everything,” downplays Wheelock. “There's all kinds of moving parts when the snow's falling.” This year, the snow was falling a bit more than usual. According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Dayton area hadn’t received this much snow since 2014. Around 35-inches by mid-February. Or equal to the previous two winters combined. This season was more reminiscent of the New England winters I grew up in. A younger me would have relished staying home from school. Old me needs to work. Fortunately, Team Wright-Patt has a host of totally rad snow-combatting equipment to get me there. The gear ranges from the common household three-foot-long, two-foot-wide, three-pound snow shovel tossing flakes as far as a person can chuck it to a 12-foot-tall, 40-foot-long, 50,000-pound broom truck launching white a hundred feet through the air. Airmen from the 88th Civil Engineering Squadron conduct snow removal operations around the installation at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, Jan. 26, 2026. Civil engineers operate specialized snow-removal equipment to clear runways, taxiways, and critical infrastructure to ensure safe and continuous flight operations following winter weather. (U.S. Air Force photo by Jack Gardner) Photo Details / Download Hi-Res Before the snow hits, CE is out with the brine trucks pretreating the roads. When the snow starts falling, out come the plows and broom trucks. And when the snow peters out, shovels and small tractors start clearing paths and sidewalks. It’s a complex concerto of people and machines safely orchestrated by Greg and Harold’s careful conducting. But the biggest player in that symphony is often the snowflake itself. Ten inches of dry snow may only contain a ½-inch of water while ten inches of wet snow may contain two. That’s basically four times as heavy. “Something could look like two inches of snow this time and it gets nice and light and fluffy and we get it off the road in a few hours,” explains Honeycutt. “The next one could also be two inches, but it could be icy underneath. It could be solid or wet. That's gonna take us twice as long to move.” “We’re going to get clearing it as fast as nature wants us to,” Wheelock chimes in. “Mother nature chooses the pace. We won't fail. It may take a little bit longer, but we will not fail.” No matter how hard the snow falls, you’ll see CE clearing a path. But ice? “We will take a foot of snow before we take an eighth of an inch of ice,” adds Harold. Ice was great when I was a kid. It made our sleds go faster. Now, ice adds an element of danger. “I've been on base since ‘97,” recollects Harold. “I think it was the 2008 ice storm that we closed shop at one point ‘cause limbs were literally falling from the trees and then hitting our equipment and people. It was just too dangerous.” A harsh, busy winter like this year can test the limits of the equipment which is why mechanics from the 88th Logistics Readiness Squadron also pull 12-hour shifts. “The polar vortex can drop temperatures so fast that it affects the hydraulic fluid and lines,” explains Greg. “We had lines breaking, popping. Windows can shatter. Equipment just breaking down. We're on the phone and radio with LRS the whole time.” These folks are dedicated. I broke my shovel clearing the drive on snow day two, swore at the broken pieces, and rage quit my way to a warm couch. Meanwhile, our Wright-Patt snow team pushed through long hours, technical difficulties, and a churlish Mother Nature until the job was done. “You're driving this equipment around trying to clear a path just to see a road and you're not seeing anything,” quips Greg. “The lane next to you, the one you just did, is already full. So as soon as you clear it, you turn back around and go again. And then you have wind and cold on top of that. It's frustrating to say the least.” Yet, there they are. Literally working round the clock. “There's missions to complete,” explains Honeycutt. “And we're the ones that help people get their missions done.” Snow days. As a child, I never gave much thought to the people who worked the wee hours clearing roads so my parents could get to and from work safely. I was just overjoyed at the wicked awesome snowbank playgrounds they had created for me and my friends. As a middle-aged man, my perspective has changed a bit. Snowbanks aren’t wicked awesome to me anymore. But the people who make my drive home safe. People like our Civil Engineer snow team. Now they are wicked awesome.