Spoken from the Front (23 page)

Anyway, we were pushing through and clearing the Green
Zone – in mid- to late April. 6 Platoon had moved into a small
compound in a village area – and that was when we pretty
much had our first contact. It was fairly hefty. 6 Platoon was
cut off and I had my platoon in the ditch taking fire from
three directions. We were taking some quite serious fire. It
was about eight thirty in the morning when it kicked off. The
first thing was hearing the gunfire from a distance. Then it
echoed around and, as we pushed up, we started taking fire
as well. It was hard to pinpoint where the fire was coming
from. We couldn't see the Taliban but we could hear the crack
and we could hear the thump. We could hear RPGs coming
over and we could see the trails.

I was the platoon sergeant and it was our first major
contact. I had a brand new platoon commander so I was trying
to control things, making sure the platoon commander
was all right. I was also trying to get amongst the blokes to
make sure they didn't get excited and waste all their
ammunition. I had three heat casualties at one stage and I was
trying to get them sorted out. It was a manic situation.

We were pinned down for a good hour and a half in this
ditch taking constant fire, sometimes sporadically and sometimes
heavy. Then we got the call – we were told we needed
to push forward to link up with the platoon that was cut off.
We prepped for that, pushed forward and broke into the
village. We then started fighting through the village. From
that point on, we were fighting to the LOE.

I was controlling the mortar fire and I got some rounds off
at the end. The Vikings had been forward of us and then we
started taking fire. To my immediate left was the OC's tac
[tactical group]. That was when we identified the Taliban. So,
with a few of my guys, we swept through this poppy field. I
don't think they [the Taliban] expected us to push that far.

At one point, the Apaches were called in to take care of
the Taliban we had spotted in a tree-line. Then there were
some Taliban in a compound and the fast air [support]
dropped a 500-pounder [bomb] but it didn't detonate. There
was a big confab on the radio about what to do. They [the
pilots] said: 'There are Brits only 350 metres away. Is it safe [to
drop a bomb]?' In the end, they dropped the 1,000-pounder
and it was so loud you felt the shock waves. I was about 350
metres away. It was the first time I had experienced a bomb
that size go off. We were down in a ditch but what struck me
about the Taliban was, almost immediately the bomb had
been dropped, they fired some rounds off as if to say: 'We're
still here.' All through the day we saw muzzle flashes but we
didn't really see the Taliban.

We finally reached the LOE at about 1830 and we were still
fighting with a fleeing enemy at that stage. It was a wholeday
battle, very intense. One of the young guys – a private of
twenty-two or -three – took a nick of shrapnel under one of
his eyes. It was nothing serious – it didn't even warrant first
aid. Other than the heat casualties, that was our only small
injury. But there were twenty to twenty-four casualties [on
the Taliban side]. We caught the Taliban on the hop that day.
I counted twelve bodies at the LOE – how many we got
[killed] extracting I don't know.

It is hard to explain how exhausted we felt at the end of
the day. The minimum kit we had was 80–85 pounds plus the
Osprey body armour, which weighs a good 35 pounds on top.
It soon weighs you down – especially with a heat of 30°C. The
adrenalin got most of the guys through but the following day
everyone was: 'Fuck, what happened there?' I went around
with a camera and got some good photos of all the boys, looking
physically exhausted, sat up with all the kit on.

Because it was the first time we came across so many dead
Taliban, we had to seek advice from higher up on what to do
with the bodies – so that we respected their religion and
everything. It was the first time we had pushed that far
forward – they [the Taliban] are usually pretty quick about
extracting their own bodies and you don't get to see them
[dead bodies]. But this was different.

We managed to establish contact with some of the village
elders. We got the bodies centralized so the village elders
could sort out the burials, which they did. It took me, the
company sergeant major and some guys I had hand-picked to
move the bodies. It wasn't nice but it had to be done. The
smell – you can't train for it. It was not so much the bloodied
state of them, it was the smell that will always stay with me.
It's hard to describe but I have never smelt anything like it
before. After, the men were washing their clothes in a stream
because they could still smell it. Later on, we stayed firm for
a while to do clearance patrols and I could still smell that
smell.

That night we pushed down. There were a couple of small
buildings that we had got into. The guys were sleeping beside
the vehicles [Vikings]. I certainly didn't get much sleep that
night. You were sleeping with one eye open. After fighting all
day, it was hard to get to sleep.

Robert Mead, Ministry of Defence press officer

The moment you've all been waiting for is upon us. Today is
my last day in fair, sunny, and getting sunnier, Lashkar Gah
(I hope – unless, of course, I get bumped off the helicopter
flight).

You will all be delighted to know that I don't have time to
compose my usual 5,000-worder as my helicopter departs in
a few hours and I have vital packing to do, smalls to wash
and prayers to Allah, peace be upon him, to complete.

However, there is still some uncertainty concerning my
final arrival back on the green and pleasant soil of olde
Englande, namely that I was told there was a flight on 10
April, provisionally booked it three weeks ago, only to ring
yesterday to confirm and while doing so was rather
irritatingly informed that: 'Eh, sir, there isn't a flight on the
tenth.'

Great. The flights are now on 9 and 11 April, so I am
provisionally booked on the flight home 11 April, arriving
Blighty early hours of 12 April or, if I am very lucky, they may
be able to squeeze me onto the flight tonight, meaning I will
be back at home in the early hours of tomorrow, i.e., Tuesday.
Gosh, even to the end it's so exciting.

Either way, for all those who can join me, I shall be having
a Great Boo's up in Colchester on Friday where you can all
gather round like an episode of
Jackanory
and I shall regale
you, my select selection of bestest chums, with my stories of
bravery and gallantry/bore the bleedin bejesus out of you, or
at the very least all those who can be orsed [sic] to come out
on the pretence that I may buy them a drink. Fat chance.

Whizz-bang (which hopefully is the closest I will come to
this sound in the next 24 hrs).

Captain Adam Chapman, The Mercian Regiment

Captain Adam Chapman, 2 Battalion The Mercian Regiment,
attached to 4/73 (Sphinx) Special Operations Battery, is twenty-nine.
He was born in Gillingham, Kent, one of three brothers. His
father served in The Royal Engineers, and they settled in
Chesterfield, Derbyshire, when Chapman was five. He left
school at eighteen and went to the University of Manchester to
do a degree in social policy. It was there that he decided to work
in the military, something he had long considered because of his
father's career. He eventually joined the Army in early 2003,
aged twenty-two. He visited Cyprus, Belize and Malawi with the
Army before going on tour to Afghanistan in 2007. Chapman,
who is engaged, is based at the 2 Mercians' barracks just outside
Belfast.

It's the night before I deploy to Afghanistan on Op Herrick 6.
I am taking B Troop of 4.73 Bty [Battery] to bolster the 12
Brigade Recce Forces [BRF] on what is recognized as one of
Britain's most demanding deployments in recent years. Not
only is it a dangerous op, it is also a dangerous job for all of
us and we know it. Our job will be to go and find the enemy.
The BRF, already in theatre, have suffered their first
casualties: one gunshot wound and three shrapnel wounds
after an incident on one of their first missions. This is
obviously not the type of news you wish to hear before
deploying, but it has to be expected, unfortunately. All I can
do is get on with the job. We have been training for this for
some time and I am confident of what we have got. My
soldiers are volunteers from across the Army, and they are
motivated and focused and, most importantly, trained for the
job.

Anyway, I'm almost packed and there is little to do but
wait. I'm full of anticipation, anxiousness and trepidation. I
think the waiting is the worst part but at least my journey
begins tomorrow.

Journey complete. After a relatively comfortable flight on a
Tristar to Kandahar, which took seven hours, we then stayed
overnight in a very basic terminal. We took a Hercules for the
final journey into Camp Bastion. The further the journey
went, the more apparent the danger was: coming into
Kandahar, we all had to don our helmets and body armour
with the lights turned off: a very strange sensation indeed!
Then it was helmets and body armour all the way to Bastion.

Camp Bastion is a large, purpose-built camp in the middle
of the desert. It's flat, dusty and full of tents and equipment.
There's constant activity with construction and movement
taking place all over. However, it was relatively quiet as the
majority of fighting troops are out on the ground. There's a
big op taking place so I wasn't able to see any of my mates
from Battalion (who are also on this tour) ...

Bad news today: a young soldier had his leg blown off by a
mine on an op (from the Royal Anglians) and a Grenadier
Guard was shot in the head. He was flown back to Camp
Bastion where he later died. It's strange having this go on
close by, especially after getting used to seeing the news on
TV. It's not a nice feeling knowing that it could happen to
anyone here. Pessimistic as that sounds, the likelihood is that
we will come into contact with the enemy – everyone knows
that.

We're in temporary accommodation at the moment, but we
may not even have any when we return from our first op. I
have been sharing a ten-man tent with no air conditioning.
It's basic but it's comfortable and that's the main thing. The
heat here is intense: at one point the thermometer on my
watch read 35°C in the shade! It must be over 40°C at its worst
and it's only going to get hotter.

The heat will be a massive factor on how we operate,
especially when carrying kit. Even just sat around at lunch I
was sweating profusely. We will get acclimatized to it, however,
especially as we begin to increase our fitness. There are
also flies and bugs everywhere, which are another issue. I'm
taking malaria tablets, but there are plenty of other nasty
diseases, which have already sent some people home. Finally,
the sand and dust: it's so dry and when the wind blows the
dust gets everywhere. It leaves a thin layer and gets up your
nose, in your eyes ... everywhere!

Starting to acclimatize now. Obviously the longer you spend
out here, the better. We do some phys [physical exercise]
every day before 0700 or after 1800 – it's far too hot in
between. Yesterday there were another five serious casualties
flown back into camp, a combination of gunshot and
shrapnel wounds. It was part of a big op in the Sangin valley.
During the battle, the mortar platoon fired 600 high-explosive
rounds – that's an indication of the severity of things. Every
day we hear reports and news of contacts and events. And it's
only going to get worse as the summer progresses.

Historically the summer months are the worst for fighting
as the opium harvest finishes and there are more fighters, also
the winter months are harsh weather-wise. Last summer was
bad for the British – a lot died unfortunately. I can see this
summer being equal to, if not worse than, last year.

The hospital is in Camp Bastion, so all the casualties
(friendly and enemy) are flown in by Chinook, which has
been very regular since we've been here. Whenever there is a
serious casualty or death, the camp shuts off all ties with the
outside world – i.e. Internet and phone – so as yet I've not
been able to reach anyone. But I think the phones are working
so I will try tonight. I know my parents will be keen to
speak especially as they have been worrying a lot – Lisa [his
girlfriend] as well.

I received my first letter yesterday, off Scotty [a friend], of
all people. Full of humour as usual.

We had our RSOI [reception, staging and onward
integration] package today, basically some lectures on
Afghanistan, and then we went to zero our weapons [adjust
the sights so they are accurate by firing rounds]. It was very
hot and the mile or so out to the range was surprisingly
sweaty, especially carrying all that kit: the new body armour
is massive and extremely heavy. Just found out that a soldier
has accidentally shot himself in Garmsir: I'd better use the
phones [to ring home] soon!

Captain George Seal-Coon, The Royal Anglian Regiment

We were involved in Op Kulang – a big battle group op in the
upper Sangin valley. Prior to the main phase of the operation,
B Company was tasked to conduct shaping operations south
of Sangin. I went out with my OC and another platoon
commander for a brief recce to an area called Hyderabad, in
the Green Zone, south of Sangin and north of Gereshk. We
married up with a company from the 82nd Airborne –
Americans. They had just conducted a battalion air assault
into this area as part of Op Silicon and had taken part in some
fairly heavy fighting. It gave us a good chance to see what
they had encountered and get the lie of the land.