‘You know what, guruji? I’ve got a feeling that’s where they get their orders for the day,’ said Gaaz, gesturing towards the mosque. ‘I reckon we should take it out.’
‘It’s tempting, isn’t it?’ I agreed. ‘But then again, who’s to say it really isn’t the good guys who go to pray every day? You just don’t know.’
‘Come on, guruji. They’re just like us. We pray to Kali when we go into battle. They pray to Allah. The Christians pray to their God. When it comes down to it, all wars are religious wars if you ask me.’
‘Why don’t they abolish religion altogether?’ said Nagen. ‘That’s what I’d like to know.’
‘Except look at Chairman Mao,’ Gaaz replied. ‘He didn’t have any religion. Nor did Stalin, or Hitler. That didn’t stop them going to war. They made a religion out of not being religious! So abolishing it isn’t going to help. Like I said, all wars are religious wars one way or another.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘The main thing is to be ready for them whoever they are,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t matter to me what they believe. Our job is to support the local population and keep the peace, so that’s what we’ll do. Nobody said being a Gurkha was going to be easy.’
14
A Moment of Madness
I was in Sangar 3 with riflemen Lal and Baren when Baren fell back with a cry.
‘What happened? What happened? Are you OK?’ I shouted, even though he was only a few feet from me.
‘Guruji,’ he gasped, breathing heavily. ‘I’ve been hit.’
Aaye! We were in trouble now.
‘Lal! Just keep firing, OK? Keep going!’ I said as I scrambled over to where Baren was lying, his head surrounded by empty cases.
We’d come under serious attack from Sniper’s House moments after an ANP patrol was ambushed on the other side of town. This was a building we’d come to realise was a real danger point.
‘Guruji, I think I’m going to die,’ Baren said quite quietly.
‘Where? Where have you been hit?’ I demanded. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not going to die!’ I was shouting as I grabbed the telephone.
‘Sangar Three CASUALTY! Wait out.’
Lal turned round to look.
‘Keep firing!’ I shouted. ‘Don’t worry what’s going on over here. He’ll be OK.’
I said that but really I was very afraid. Baren didn’t look at all good. But it was strange, as I looked him over quickly I couldn’t see anything. Nothing that was obvious anyway.
‘Are you sure you’ve been hit?’ I exclaimed. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Yes. Definitely,’ he groaned. ‘It’s here.’ He pointed to his thigh.
Looking down, I saw blood. Not much, but the fact that it was only a small quantity doesn’t necessarily mean anything one way or the other. It could have exited somewhere else, which would be where the real damage was done.
The phone rang. That would be the OC wanting to know the situation, but I ignored it. I needed to know how badly Baren was injured.
There was still a huge weight of fire flying around in all directions. Sangar 1 were engaging the enemy, as was the CT behind, and I could hear the other .50-cal in between the bursts of GPMG being fired by Lal, but I was more concerned about Baren. I was afraid I was about to find something really bad. When you get hit, it can take some time for the wound to show much. It could be that if I turned him over I’d find half his back missing. I also knew that even after a direct hit, it can take three or four minutes for a man to die.
I looked into Baren’s eyes again and I could see he was thinking the same thing. They were full of fear.
‘OK, I’m going to take a look,’ I said.
I jerked his trouser leg out of his boot and pulled it up to where he was pointing. But although there was a bright red mark and my hand was quickly covered in blood, I couldn’t see a puncture wound.
‘It’s just a graze,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘You’re fine.’
Taking a field dressing out of the first-aid kit, I tore the pack open, placed it over the wound and bound it up tight. Baren groaned.
‘You’re in shock,’ I said. ‘But you’re fine.’
‘No, I think it’s here, guruji. My side,’ he said now in a whisper. His breath was short and shallow and he was obviously in a lot of pain. ‘Yes, it’s gone into my side.’
Now I was really scared. It could be the round grazed his leg and entered further up. So I pulled his trouser leg back down and examined his shirt. He’d got his body armour on of course, so if he’d taken a bullet it was going to be somewhere he wasn’t covered. Again I didn’t see anything at first. But then I noticed a small tear in his shirt, and a bloodstain. This could be bad after all. As I pulled it up carefully, Baren gasped in agony.
Sure enough, there was the wound. But to my relief, I understood what had happened. Again, it was just a graze, that was all. There was no puncture of the skin, just a bright red line a few inches long. Baren had had an incredibly lucky escape. The round had skimmed his thigh and then his side, without actually penetrating.
I got him to turn over so that I could be certain.
‘You’re OK, bhai. You aren’t going to die. You’re fine. It’s just a graze. It’s nothing.’
Baren’s breathing was still shallow.
‘Are you really sure, guruji?’
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘Am I your guruji?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘You are my guruji.’
‘Right, well as your guruji I’m telling you you’re fine. So come on, get up. Get stuck in.’
Baren looked down and ran his hand over the wound. It was still hurting him and he winced in pain, but the realisation that it wasn’t serious brought him back to life with a start.
‘Aare jatha! I really thought I was going to die! The dirty dusman horou!’
And now he was really angry. From being certain he was going to die, he had turned into a wild animal – furious.
‘Jatha haru!’ he shouted, shaking his head and crawling back into position, where he opened up immediately with the .50-cal.
A few seconds later, there came a loud shout from down below.
‘STRETCHER!’
‘NOT NEEDED!’ I yelled in reply.
‘IT’S OK. WE’RE COMING UP.’
‘NO, DON’T!’ I yelled. ‘HE’S OK!’
I looked down. There were the medic and Rifleman Prakash attempting to hard-target their way up into the sangar.
‘No need!’ I shouted. ‘Get back down!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes! He’s fine. It’s just a graze.’
After a second’s hesitation, the two of them turned round, flung the stretcher down and threw themselves off the roof and back down the ladder. Some of these medics are seriously brave, I thought to myself as I reached for the field telephone. Seeing the stretcher had reminded me I needed to call the tower and give them a proper casrep – a casualty report, that is.
‘Sangar Three, CASREP, over.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘It’s Baren, but he’s OK.’
‘How bad is he?’
‘I say again, he’s OK. Completely fine. It’s just a graze. He’s on the .50-cal right now.’
‘We’d better extract him anyway,’ replied the OC – I guess he didn’t want to take any chances – but I declined.
‘Better not to extract right now,’ I said. ‘We’re still getting a lot of small-arms. It’s just too risky.’
‘Roger. But you’re sure he’s all right? No shock?’
‘He was a bit shocked,’ I said. ‘But he’s OK. Fully recovered. He’s got a field dressing on. I’ll send him over as soon as it calms down.’
‘All right, so long as you’re sure. But keep me informed.’
‘Roger.’
In fact, Baren wasn’t only fine, he was exploding with rage. He and Lal were getting angrier and angrier and they were swearing a lot. They were desperate to actually see the ene
my, but all they had to go on was the bit of smoke Lal had seen earlier.
‘I just want to be able to see the jatha, guruji,’ said Baren as I took up position next to him. ‘I want to kill that muji who shot me.’
This is just about the worst possible word in the Nepali language, and I must say that setting it down like this embarrasses me. As I have said, Gurkhas do not swear much, and when they do it is quickly forgotten. But it is the reality. On this occasion, the air was black with foul language.
‘We’ve got to kill them, guruji,’ said Lal fiercely. They were both really mad now. Totally frustrated.
The bhais’ anger was infectious. We knew the enemy were somewhere close. But where were they exactly?
‘OK. Wait there!’ I said, grabbing my weapon and my binoculars and climbing out of the sangar position onto the roof. Although this meant I was again relying on just the camnet for cover, I wanted to be able to see inside the next compound. The rounds were still flying up at us, but I didn’t care. I too just wanted to kill now. I wanted the jatha dead.
Suddenly I saw something. Aare! They were right next door to us! Poking out from a hole less than 50 metres away was the very thing I was looking for. The muzzle of a gun barrel with a wisp of smoke curling from it.
‘OVER THERE!’ I yelled. ‘Reference doorway in left-hand wall of compound next door. Go right two metres. Hole in wall. There’s a gun barrel! There are people in there!’
At this, Baren and Lal both jumped up and brought their weapons out of the sangar onto the roof.
‘We’ll get them, guruji! We’re gonna kill those jatha!’
Balancing the GPMG on his hip, Baren began to fire, with Lal joining in on the Minimi. We were all out on the roof now, all three of us fully exposed and still with a massive amount of fire coming up at us, mad as anything.
After a few seconds I realised this was all wrong and I hit the deck hard.
‘Bhai haru! Get down!’ I yelled. ‘You need to get down!’
‘Not until I’ve killed them all!’ Baren shouted.
He was totally pumped up now, no longer a human being but a vicious animal intent on destroying its prey.
‘ENOUGH!’ I shouted. ‘Get down both of you! NOW!’
Their aggression was good. They were being brave, sure. But there comes a moment when bravery and aggression tip over into something else. Something that isn’t really brave but is in fact stupid. And I could see that Lal and Baren had both reached that point. It was essential I control them or we really were going to take casualties.
But they ignored me.
‘GET DOWN!’ I yelled, even louder. ‘BOTH OF YOU!’
This time they obeyed.
They were just in time. A second later, I spotted a man, dressed in the typical loose brown clothing of these parts, wearing a grey turban and carrying a weapon. I couldn’t say whether it was an AK47 or an RPG, but he was running in our direction across the compound of the clinic.
‘Guruji! Did you see that?’ Lal exclaimed.
But I was already halfway back into the sangar and didn’t stop to reply. Grabbing three grenades, I stuffed one into my webbing pouch and held on to the others, one in each hand as I climbed back out onto the roof.
‘OK, Lal, you take this,’ I said, giving one of them to him. ‘Baren, CHECK FIRE!’ I shouted as, pulling the camnet aside, I extracted the pin on the first grenade.
I have quite a good throw, and by taking a short run I was able to get it well into the compound. It exploded almost immediately, though of course I couldn’t tell if it actually got anyone.
As soon as I’d thrown mine, Lal threw his, and Baren opened up again. As he did so, another figure flashed across the corner of the compound.
‘CHECK FIRE!’ I yelled again, pulling the pin from the second grenade. This one I dropped right into the corner. It must have been close, but again I didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing anything.
I glanced at my watch. The OC had mentioned calling up air support. It couldn’t be long before it got here. In the meantime, the key was to keep the enemy pinned down inside the compound so that when the Apache or the A-10 did get here, we could actually destroy them.
‘OK, guys, keep suppressing!’ I shouted as I crawled back inside the position. I needed to give a quick sitrep to the OC, also to grab more belts for the GPMG and some more magazines for the rifles. A few more grenades would be good too.
‘Zero, this is Sangar Three. Contact! Enemy position identified in next-door compound. Approx fifteen metres. Have thrown three grenades.’
‘Zero, roger. Well done. We should have Apache overhead in minutes five or less. Can you give me an exact grid reference of their position?’
‘Roger. Wait out,’ I replied, slamming the receiver down and grabbing my map.
When I had passed the location on, the OC announced that he was sending two more men over as reinforcements until the air support arrived.
‘That’ll give you an extra Minimi and another SA80,’ he said.
‘Roger. But tell them to be very careful getting up. We’re still getting a lot of accurate fire on the position.’
A short time after, Riflemen Lukesh and Purna appeared, bringing with them a second GPMG and more ammo. It was very brave of them to come up, as we were being engaged at that very moment. You could clearly hear rounds striking the sandbags. My assessment now is that we were being engaged by a fire-support group while raiding parties were forming up in the clinic and in the bazaar.
Baren and Lal were back inside the sangar by now, and with five of us, it suddenly became very crowded. But it was too dangerous to stay outside for any length of time. Unlike in Sangar 1, there had been no possibility here for us to build a second wall of sandbags for protection further in front. There wasn’t room, and anyway, I doubt the roof would have held the extra weight.
Because it was essential not to forget the bigger picture, I put Lukesh and Purna to cover our eastern flank, looking out towards what was left of Sniper’s House and down into the bazaar, while I kept Baren and Lal together looking out over the clinic next door.
‘Just watch for any movement and engage immediately, OK?’ I said to the newcomers.
‘Hasur, guruji.’
A short pause in the enemy fire gave me the opportunity to send another quick sitrep.
‘Zero, this is Sangar Three, over.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Reinforcements now in position observing. Enemy fire is a bit less.’
‘Zero, roger. Out.’
The incoming fire was definitely a bit less, but why? I put the field telephone down and resumed scanning the local area, first on one side, then the other. The town itself was completely quiet, and yet you just knew that death was out there, lurking hidden in the alleyways and abandoned buildings.
Moments later, another blizzard of accurate fire engulfed the position.
For thirty seconds or more, we were completely unable to move. Rounds were entering the sangar above our heads and the place was thick with dust as they punctured the sandbags.
Then the field telephone rang.
‘Air support in less than one minute.’ I had never been more glad to hear the OC’s voice.
‘Roger. At present unable to return fire. Sustained accurate fire on my position.’
‘Roger. Will inform pilot.’
Slamming the receiver down, I turned to the others.
‘Air support approaching, guruji bhai haru!’
This was a massive morale boost, and we heard the beautiful sound of rotor blades slicing through the early evening air.
‘Apache!’ the bhais all exclaimed simultaneously.
It’s hard to explain what that sound meant to us. It was just so comforting. From feeling like you are totally vulnerable, totally at the mercy of the enemy, the next moment you feel completely safe. You feel that everything’s going to be all right now – even though of course it might not be.
With the helicopter overhead,
the incoming fire stopped and we were able to get back in position. But our troubles were far from over. Seconds later, we started coming under fire from the other side of the sangar.
‘Quick, guruji! There’s enemy down there!’
Lal was pointing in the direction of some buildings on the western side of the bazaar.
‘Where those shops are! I saw movement!’
Sure enough, I spotted not one but several flashes and some gunsmoke as I scanned the area with my binos.
‘Zero, this is Sangar Three, CONTACT! Area to western side of bazaar. Enemy movement. Looks like they’re trying to turn us over!’
You had to admit, these jatha were brave. Very brave. They were trying to turn us over even though we had air support right on top of us – which was of course the right thing to do. They knew that if they could just get close enough, the helicopter would be useless. Blue on blue.
‘Down there, guruji!’ yelled Baren. ‘There’s four of them – maybe more! Heading for the clinic!’
‘OK, guys, fire at will,’ I said, forcing myself to stay calm. ‘Fire at will!’
The time for restraint had passed. I don’t mean that we were out of control again. We weren’t just spraying rounds down without any discipline. On the other hand we needed to get as much weight of fire onto the enemy as possible, even if we couldn’t see him except in glimpses. We knew pretty much where he was, so it was a question of forcing him to stay back. In these situations, you have to do anything to prevent the enemy from gaining the initiative. You need to get the rounds down so he daren’t expose himself. You have to deprive him of the opportunity to launch a full-scale assault.
‘Zero, this is Sangar Three. CONTACT! Movement seen in clinic again. Engaging!’
‘Zero, roger. I’ll ask the pilot if he can help.’
There was tension in the OC’s voice. Normally you wouldn’t attempt to use air support to take on targets at such close range, and it was a big risk to do so. But the situation demanded it.
Within seconds there was another Charlie Charlie call on the PRR.
‘Ready, Kailash?’
‘OK ready.’
‘Roger. Charlie Charlie One, Apache will engage target in old clinic. HEADS DOWN! I say again HEADS DOWN!’
Gurkha: Better to Die than Live a Coward: My Life in the Gurkhas Page 23