Spoken from the Front (4 page)

As they [the Paras] were pushing up to this particular
building, I thought: Shit, that's someone firing at them – just
as they called, 'Contact' [over the radio]. I was seeing the
muzzle flash from the guys [Taliban] behind a wall.
Fortunately, I was visual with the firing point, something I
now realize is a luxury as the firing point is often very hard
to see. We were a bit too close to engage straight away and, it
being my first contact, I took a bit of time to get in position,
get clearance from the JTAC to fire 30mm and get accurate
rounds on. We would have been at between two and two and
half thousand feet, about one K from the target. Without a
shadow of a doubt, there were two of them firing over a wall.
They were firing an AK-47 [assault rifle], and possibly one
had a PKM [machine-gun] with a slightly longer barrel. We
were still operating everything under self-defence [Rules of
Engagement]. They were probably 150 metres closing to 100
metres of where the friendlies [British forces] were. I was the
aircraft commander in the front seat where you operate
the sights and do most of the firing. You make sure the sight,
TADS [targeting acquisition designating sight], is pointing
accurately at the target; it's compensated for motion so it's
nice and steady. You're zoomed in on the day TV camera as
much as you can be. You lase [laser] for range, action the gun,
check the range and, provided there are no other weaponeering
messages, you fire. You watch for the fall of shot,
adjust accordingly, and fire again.

Our first burst was perhaps fifteen to twenty metres from
the target and we got cleared to fire again with a good rounds
call from the JTAC. We could see the muzzle flashes so we put
120 rounds in and around the wall. They stopped firing but
there was an orchard on the west side so we couldn't see any
bodies or if we actually got them. We know that they no
longer fired so it achieved its aim and the Para platoon swept
through the area. Knowing what I know now, I could have
paused a little bit more so that my initial burst was as accurate
as it could have been rather than firing off axis. If you're
running straight at them it's going to be more accurate and,
hopefully, you can hit them before they start running. The
best approach is to track them, then ambush them with 30mm
rounds at the point of your choosing.

But it was good. We had four different radios going: an Ops
Room radio, an inter-aircraft radio and two different
frequencies speaking to the controller of two different
company groups. So the divvying up of tasks within the
cockpit can be tricky.

The contact went on for five or ten minutes. When it went
quiet, we came back for fuel. But the Paras had done pretty
well to clear through a pretty dodgy area. It was an eyeopener
for everyone at that time. Later in the day, our pair [of
Apache] went back up to co-ordinate the pick-up and
recovery. The recovery was done with one or two Chinooks
less than the drop-off to squeeze it in before we lost the light.
Our role was to provide the continued cover as well as confirming
the pick-up grid for the Chinooks. It was hot and the
Chinooks were [each] picking up forty-four guys plus all
their kit. By all accounts it was pretty sporty lifting out of the
landing site with extremely limited power. Fortunately everyone
got back [safely] and it was mission accomplished.

The temperature and the altitude make a real difference to
how thin the air is and how hard the engines have to work
to produce the same power. In the UK, lifting the same aircraft
load, we would have been lifting with approximately 82
per cent power. In Afghanistan, in 45°C at 3,000 feet, we
would probably be lifting at 93 per cent power. But that was
our first big op and it felt good to be a part of it.

Flight Lieutenant Christopher 'Has' Hasler, DFC, RAF

It's been a long day. Into work for 0300 to start learning the
ropes of DA [duty aviator]. I also had to do myriad jobs for
the boss. Not that I minded, of course: the poor guy has shitloads
on his plate at the moment and it probably helps him a
great deal if someone reads his emails for him (although I'm
sure he will reread them anyway).

We were all told there is a rescue op going on. A number of
ANP [Afghan National Police] had been driven out of their
town by the TB [Taliban] (10 kilometres west of Kajaki Dam).
They are holing up in a safe-house, which is located in the
middle of a steep valley. They do not have comms and it is
unknown how many of them are still alive or if they have
been overrun completely. The last report, which was received
4–5 hours ago, said they were down to 20 rounds apiece. We
all know that the TB do not take PoWs.

Our mission is to take two Chinooks, supported by two AH
[attack helicopters/Apaches], one with two Paras and one
empty. The Chinny with the Paras (my aircraft) will land and
offload the troops top cover. The Paras will move forward
and recce the safe-house. It will be filled with either ANA
[Afghan National Army] or with TB. If things run smoothly,
the second CH [Chinook] will be called in to pick up the
ANA, or bodies of. If things go badly and the Paras run into
a contact, we will try to recover them while the Paras rain
down as much lead as poss.

It is now 1640Z and I am supposed to be up at 2200Z for
a 0002 lift. As I was leaving the HQ a new piece of int
[intelligence] came in. There are RPG-armed troops amassing
in the hilltops, apparently with the aim of shooting down a
Chinook. I'd better get my head down. I don't want to fall
asleep when the bullets start coming!

It wasn't long after I finished writing the last entry that I was
awoken and told that the op was still on. With time only to
clean our teeth, we grabbed our kit and made for the HQ.
After a quick brief, we got ourselves to the aircraft, flashed
them and flew to Camp Bastion, all while it was still dark.
The sun started to rise halfway over the red desert; five
minutes later it was 32°C at 200 ft.

At Bastion, all the players gathered for a mission brief
given by Maj Will Pike, OC [officer commanding] A Cy
[Company]. The mission had changed slightly in that both
CHs [Chinooks] will now be carrying troops and landing
simultaneously. Int also hadn't nailed down a specific
location for the police chief and his men. Instead we had three
'probable' grids which would be confirmed by the overhead
Apaches.

The Apaches would be looking for a building in a compound
with a blue and white gate, flying a blue and white
flag. Also, upon hearing the approaching helo, the chief was
meant to start a fire with tyres on it, thus creating a highly
visible black smoke.

Before we were even meant to arrive on the scene, a
predator UAV [unmanned aerial vehicle] would be high
above the TGT [target] Loc [location], providing a real-time
picture and threat assessment. With all these assets at our
disposal, we had a fairly good, warm, fuzzy feeling ...
notwithstanding the brief TB threat, which was significant.

After a cup of tea and a bacon sandwich, provided
generously by the Paras, we lifted and departed the TGT. We
lifted exactly on time 0315Z and with our predicted 45 min
transit we would be on scene at 0400Z (0830L).

I was in the lead aircraft and in the left-hand seat. My job
was to navigate the formation to the TGT, control comms
between the HQ JTAC [joint terminal air controller], FST [firesupport
team] and all of the air assets and run the mission as
we were the command aircraft.

The captain (Squadron Leader Lamb) would fly over the
right and generally free himself of further workload in order
to maintain capacity. Another task of mine was to manage the
fuel for the 2 a/c [second aircraft]. The op was planned in
such a way we would be arriving back at the base with only
15 mins fuel remaining.

Things started to go badly when HQ called to say that the
UAV was late and would not be arriving until after we were
on TGT. We were instructed to press on regardless. The
situation grew more tense when the Apaches reported that
they were high above the TGT, 5 mins in front of us, but none
of the grids matched the description of the safe-house. We
opted to remain high and south of the TGT and throw in a
few orbits while the Apaches had another look about.

We were growing quite twitchy as we were orbiting over
known enemy territory, thinking the TGT was looking more
and more like a trap. I was also very aware that while we
waited, our fuel gauge was continuing to fall.

Fuel was coming to a critical stage when an Apache piped
up saying he had spotted black smoke. We immediately
dived down to 50 feet and made best speed to the general
area, while I frantically punched the new grid into the
computer.

As we approached, the AH [attack helicopters] were giving
a further picture of the TGT. It seemed to match the given
description accurately. With less than a mile to go, we still
weren't visual with the safe-house. We rounded the corner of
a hill, still doing 130 knots when we came visual. Andy Lamb
threw out the anchors and we landed just shy of the
compound with the other a/c in our 5 o'clock. Our wingman's
troops ran off and set up an all-round defence, while
our troops went into the house to escort the ANP out.
Meanwhile we scanned our arcs of fire, while the Apaches
provided us with a local-area int picture.

We lifted all the call signs aboard in little more than 9 mins.
Unfortunately, without firing a shot. The TB, it seems, either
weren't up for a scrap or they were miles away. Who knows?

One final thing of note: one of the ANP, a boy really, was so
scared of flying in a Chinook that he pissed himself. One
would have thought that being left to the TB would be more
frightening ... Each to their own, I suppose.

What started as a very quiet, sedate day became suddenly
very interesting. A Pinz [Pinzgauer 2½-ton truck] had broken
down in the middle of the Sangin Valley (über bandit
country). Our job was to go in and pick it up before the
enemy got to it first. My cab would go in first and drop in a
platoon to secure the site and rig up the Pinz for under-slinging.
The second cab would come in after us and lift the
lorry out. Meanwhile, two Apaches would provide top cover.

We were airborne at 1530Z. This, however, was after a
massive comms faff: we lifted but had to return because we
didn't have the right troops on board. Also, via the poor
comm we had many reiterations to the plan, which had the
effect of the crews involved not really knowing what the final
plan was.

We passed on to the TGT site, which was forty miles east.
The AH were already overhead and were starting to give very
good int ... or very bad, depending on your perspective.
They had spotted several ground groups of suspicious locals
on motorbikes and [in] four-wheel drives. Furthermore, a
JTAC (C/S widow) [call sign 'Widow'] was reporting sustained
enemy fire very close to his position, which in turn
was very close to our LS (landing site).

We established ourselves in the overhead and began a recce
of the area. After locating the wagon, we awaited the green
light from the AH. He soon said that the area 1,000m around
the Pinz was cold and we were clear to approach. We
dropped the lever and descended through the threat band as
quickly as possible. The Pinz was abandoned on a track, 50m
up from a dried-out riverbed. We were over the riverbed at 50
feet and the dust levels were very light. Once over the bank
and on the track, the aircraft blew up a huge cloud of dust,
which completely enveloped us and caused total brown-out.
We still had 25 feet below us and 15 knots ground-speed and
continued the rest of the way down totally blind. We landed
with a firm thud and waited for the dust to settle while the
troops ran out of the back. The first thing I saw when the dust
settled was a set of wires not 5 feet in front of the disc [rotor
blades].

With the troops gone, we lifted vertically to escape the dust
and wires and proceeded low level to the west to gain air
speed before climbing up as hard as the aircraft could go to a
safe level. Before we could do that, however, the Apaches
said that a group of men on 4x4s were advancing 400m in our
12 o'clock. We banked hard left in the opposite direction and
then proceeded 'upstairs'.

Now it was our playmate's time to do the same and pick
up the load. He executed this perfectly, despite very trying
conditions due to the near zero visibility when in the
hover while overhead. He departed and we went back to pick
up the troops. After lifting the platoon, we were told they
had to be dropped off at Camp Robinson, 7 kilometres to the
north.

At the same time, we were getting more and more reports
from colleagues on the ground of incoming enemy fire. Most
of this fire was coming from [Forward Operating Base]
Robinson itself. With the light levels fading rapidly and the
Apaches above us, we decided to land anyway. This was
done without incident. We took off again, transited home and
made an approach to the right in darkness.

Major Maria Holliday, QCM, Royal Military Police (RMP)

We had an RMP lad killed on a helicopter that went down. He
was working for RC [Regional Command] South. Of course,
that hits home when it's one of your own [RMP] cap badge
and a number of lads in my company knew him well. There
are only about 2,000 of us in the Army.

It happened during an operation. It was a US helicopter. He
was part of a combat media team: Corporal Mike Gilyeat,
aged twenty-eight – 'Gilly' to his friends. I had met him for the
first time in Kandahar, only two weeks prior to the incident.
Because of our distinctive red hats, I noticed him at the
repatriation service of another UK soldier who had been killed;
he was with a young Canadian colleague. If you see another red
hat, you automatically talk to them because there aren't that
many of us around. I just said, 'Hello,' and that if he needed any
RMP support while he was there, we were always there as the
company to assist. He was in theatre on his own because he was
sent out from Northern Ireland for a special photographer role;
therefore he was not part of an RMP company.