by Griff Hosker
It was a plan. However, I was not certain it would succeed. “Very well sir. I have the list of men who I think deserve medals. I would also like to promote Flight Lieutenant Ritchie to Squadron Leader. It makes it easier for me to lead the wing.”
“Good idea. Is Cartwright ready to take over Barnes’ squadron?”
“If I say I am not sure then that tells you all you need to know sir. He will make a good squadron leader I am just uncertain if he is ready yet.”
“Well Squadron Leader Woollett has one of his chaps he wants promoting, Flight Lieutenant Davis.”
I nodded, “A good chap sir. I served with him in Heliopolis as well as down at Baghdad.”
“Then that appears to be settled. I will leave the arrangements for your wing to you. You will have Woollett and Williams’ aeroplanes too.”
While they prepared the Vernons to take the troops and Sir John to Mosul I gathered my pilots. I had spoken to Henry and David on the radio and they would be operating north of Mosul. “We are going to sweep east and north east. You will be operating in flights. Any one in Turkish uniform is fair game. Any Kurd with a gun is a target.”
Squadron Leader Ritchie asked, “What about Sulaimaniya, sir? That is still a Kurdish stronghold.”
I nodded, “There are moves afoot. Sir John and I want to solve the Turkish issue first. If we have our northern borders secure then we can deal with Sheikh Mahmud and believe me, we will.”
I allowed Squadron Leader Ritchie to organise the flights. He gave me Simpkins and Marshall as my wingmen. They had flown with me before and Ritchie showed that I had made a wise choice.
As we passed Ebril I noticed that they had repaired the damage to the walls already. The convoy which had brought supplies had also brought troops and they had gone directly to Ebril. We spied our first Turks twenty miles from Ebril. It was a convoy of six vehicles. They were skirting the high ground and heading for the Tigris. Sir John was worried that groups of these survivors could band together and be a threat to some of the smaller detachments which were dotted around the border. I dropped my first bomb ahead of the lead lorry while Simpkins dropped his first behind them. They were effectively trapped on the road. Marshall’s two bombs exploded in the middle of the convoy. We made two passes with machine guns and left the convoy a smoking charnel house. As we headed north west we saw that the other flights had been ahead of us and there were more bodies on the road. As we were at our limit we returned to Kirkuk. We had lost no aeroplanes and the land had been scoured. I radioed the information back to base.
Sir John sent me a radio message congratulating us. We were stood down until he returned. I sat with Jack and Paul in the mess. “We need these next two days, sir. The buses need a good overhaul.”
“I know but I have spoken with Sergeant Major Shaw. He will work on my flight first. The day after tomorrow I intend to fly to Sulaimaniya.”
“I thought we were stood down, sir.”
“We are Paul, but Sir John has sent an emissary to the Sheikh ordering him to present himself at Baghdad. I want to fly over his residence and encourage him to comply.”
“You are looking for Count Yuri Fydorervich aren’t you sir?”
“You know me well, Jack. Yes, I suppose I am.”
I took off, two days later with Simpkins and Marshall. Sulaimaniya still had no Union Flag flying over it. Sheikh Mahmud was as defiant as ever. We reached the town at noon. We flew in fast and low. Rifles were fired at us but our speed meant that they did not stand a chance of hitting us. I saw what had been the residence of Count Yuri Fydorervich. It was a black hole in the ground. I then led the flight over Sheikh Mahmud’s home. It was there I saw Russians. There were three of them. Although they wore turbans they had blond beards. It was enough proof for me that the Count was still alive. I took my flight around the walls. I needed to work out where to drop the delayed fuse bombs. I did not think that the Sheikh would comply. I found twenty places where the explosions would disturb the peace and tranquillity but civilian casualties would be kept to a minimum. They were also well away from the mosques. If we damaged one of those it would be a disaster.
The next two days were the quietest I could remember at Kirkuk. We had no sorties and the buses were all in a perfect state of readiness. As soon as the new squadron leader arrived to take over the Bristols then Jack and I could head back to Baghdad. I might even manage some leave.
Sir John arrived. “Well, Wing Commander, it looks like Sheikh Mahmud has decided to ignore the summons to come to Baghdad. He should have arrived yesterday and he did not. I will have the ultimatum prepared. Will it be the Snipes or the Ninaks you use?”
“There are just twenty bombs. I will use the Snipes. I overflew the town the other day. I know where to drop them.”
“The armourer knows how to prime them. It will take twenty-four hours for them all to explode.”
“Sir, there is a risk that we might wound or kill civilians.”
“I know. This has come from London. We are just obeying orders.”
“I realise that sir but it does not sit well with me.”
“I can get Squadron Leader Thomson to do it, if you wish.”
Shaking my head, I said, “That would be me ducking out of my responsibility. I will take them. I have identified where the Sheikh is hiding sir. We can destroy that without collateral damage.”
“Good.”
I asked Squadron Leader Ritchie to drop the ultimatum. We had the twenty bombs on just five Snipes. I spent a long time explaining to the pilots where we would drop them. The rest of the squadron would fly with Squadron Leader Ritchie. They would be a show of strength. We avoided bombing when they were at prayer. I knew that they were sensitive about that. We split up before we reached the town. The other Snipes would draw the fire. We heard the machine guns and rifles popping away at them as we flew around in a giant circle dropping bombs. It felt strange to drop a bomb and not hear an explosion. I hoped London knew what it was doing. The first bomb would explode just six hours later. The rest would go off at irregular intervals.
I dropped mine first and that allowed me to climb and be able to watch both my bombers and Ritchie’s buses. When I saw him and his men begin to climb I knew that the missive had been delivered. When the last bomb was dropped we climbed and headed west.
After we landed I felt a little let down. We would neither see nor hear the results of our action. We would have to wait. Sir John was convinced that we would see the results in less than two days but I was not certain.
Squadron Leader Davis had arrived from Mosul the same day as Sir John had returned. He was busy rebuilding confidence in the squadron. It was not just the slipshod nature of Barnes’ organisation which had caused problems. It was also his lack of adherence to rules. Sergeant Major Hill was delighted with the new broom. “Now we will see some changes sir. We will make this squadron as good as yours. The basic material is sound. It was just… well you know better than anyone, sir.”
I sat with the new squadron leader, Jack and Squadron Leader Ritchie. We had a quiet table in the mess and were able to talk freely. We avoided speaking ill of the dead but between us we were able to paint a picture for Davis. He would have been my choice as well as Henry’s. He was a quiet and thoughtful man. He was, perhaps, too cautious to be a fighter pilot but the Bristols were more of a bomber than a fighter.
“And when you are gone sir? Not that I am chasing you away but I will be here on my own, so what is my brief?”
“A good question. Keep law and order. You will need to support the local officials. When the Ottomans ran this country, their officials were corrupt. Many of the people think it is the same. When they get a tax demand they think they can negotiate or not even pay. You will have to help them enforce the rules.”
“Good God sir, I am a bailiff now!”
We all laughed, “Perhaps. Lord Palmer is a good chap to get to know. He understands the people and he is very fair. When we pull out you will have less men
to guard the airfield and you will be reliant on the garrison at Kirkuk. They are good chaps.”
Jack tapped out his pipe, “And Sulaimaniya?”
“When the Sheikh is brought to heel we will retake it. That will be our job. We will have to bomb it. Then we will put a Governor in place there. I am afraid that Kirkuk will have a watching brief on Sulaimaniya too.”
“Then life will not be dull, eh sir?”
“Anything but!”
Chapter 16
The bombs must have worked. A delegation arrived the two days later and presented themselves at Lord Palmer’s residence. One of them was Sheikh Mahmud’s nephew. Sir John invited me to sit in on the negotiations. I did so in the hope that I might pick up news about Count Yuri Fydorervich. Colonel Pemberton was there too.
The delegation of ten were mainly young warriors. They had a mullah with them and two grey haired men. The Sheikh’s nephew could speak English and he did most of the speaking. “Your bombs caused a great deal of damage to our town!” He sounded indignant as though we had done that without any good justification.
“Had your uncle come here then that would not have been necessary.” The Air Vice Marshall kept his voice as calm and neutral as possible.
“My uncle is a great leader. He is King of Kurdistan.”
“He is king of nowhere and he is lucky that we gave him the Governorship. When does he arrive?”
I liked Sir John’s bluntness. Mohammed al Mahmud adopted an innocent look. “We are here as ordered in the ultimatum. Why does my uncle need to be here?”
“Because he was the one summoned. Are you telling me that he will not be presenting himself to me as ordered?”
“You do not order my uncle around.”
Sir John look at Lord Palmer, “Then these discussions are meaningless. You will all be detained here until Sheikh Mahmud arrives.”
“You cannot do that!” The young man translated and all ten became agitated.
Lord Palmer stood and said, firmly, “Any more of this nonsense and you will all be put in chains. Do you understand me?”
Sir John nodded his thanks as they calmed down. “The letter quite clearly stated that unless Sheikh Mahmud presented himself here then we would take further action.”
“If you try to take my uncle you will find that his people will defend him to the death. He has allies who know how you fight. You will lose many men!”
My ears pricked up. He was referring to the Count. He was still with the Sheikh. Sir John smiled. It was an oddly evil smile for such a pleasant man. “And you will be here. You will only hear of it after we have taken Sulaimaniya!”
Lord Palmer snapped, “Take them away!”
When they had gone Sir John said, “Of course we have no intention of Colonel Pemberton’s men bleeding to take what is, essentially, our own town. Wing Commander can our aeroplanes knock out the Sheikh’s headquarters and eliminate all of his strong points?”
I nodded.
Colonel Pemberton said, “I can vouch for that personally. If we could coordinate the attack so that my chaps were in lorries just outside the town. That way, when you attack we can follow behind quickly. The last thing we need is for this slippery fellow to slither away and hide beneath one of the many rocks in this land.”
“Quite. If we make the date and time for the attack dawn the day after tomorrow. That will give the chance for Colonel Pemberton’s Sikhs to get into position during the hours of darkness and hopefully the Wing Commander will catch him with his trousers down!”
That gave me a whole day to make my plans. The four of us sat in the briefing room with a pot of tea and some corned beef and mustard sandwiches. “We have two tasks. The most important is to destroy the Sheikh’s headquarters. The second is to destroy all of the strong points. I propose that the Snipes will destroy the headquarters. That way the gunners in the Bristols and the Ninaks can clear the streets around their strong points. The Sikhs will be going in while we attack. I want the opposition to be neutralized.”
Jack said, “And if they flee?”
“Then we follow and use our machine guns to destroy them. We use bombs first, then the Lewis machine gun and the twin Vickers are a last resort.”
Jack had the bit between his teeth, “No sir, I meant what if they flee over the border. What if they head to Iran? Do we follow?”
I sat back and sipped my tea, “Do you know Jack I had not thought of that. I was so obsessed with ridding the world of this Sheikh and the Count that I had forgotten how close to the border they are. I will have to seek guidance on this. My gut reaction is that we go after them, no matter where they are but I shall speak with Sir John.”
Sir John was busy in the radio room sending a message to Baghdad. “Sir, when you are done if I could have a word.”
“Of course.” Once outside I led him to my office and closed the door. “A problem Wing Commander?”
“Perhaps. When the rats leave their nest how far can we follow them?”
“How far? Why… of course. Iran. A delicate problem eh?”
“The border is close enough for them to slip over. I am certain that Maivan was where Count Yuri Fydorervich was hiding before he went to Sulaimaniya.”
“Leave that with me. I shall radio the British Ambassador in Tehran and ask him to speak with Raza Shah, the King of Iran. He will not be happy about having rebellious Kurds in his land. However, if he refuses us permission then we do not cross the border. Is that clear?”
“Sir!”
“And that includes firing across the border!”
Sir John had thought of everything.
That done I could begin to prepare for what might be the last action in this minor revolt and invasion. I took all three of my guns, stripped and cleaned them. I had already managed to acquire more ammunition. When Captain Daniels had brought in the weapons and ammunition from the men who tried to scale our walls he found some for my Mauser. Once that was done I put the Lee Enfield in its scabbard in the Snipe and secured the ammunition and four more grenades in the netting which I used to hold flasks, food and spare tobacco. I then checked my emergency kit. This was a weekly event. I made sure the hip flask was full of whisky. It made a good emergency antiseptic and had been known to put life back into a failing engine! I made certain that my two compasses worked. When I had been an air gunner I had learned that one compass was never enough. I emptied the water from my canteen and refilled it before adding the tablet which would kill anything noxious. I found it made the water taste disgusting but I always had a little whisky to add. The medical kit was there. It was still unused and the mirror I could use for signalling. With my dagger and penknife my equipment was all ready. Most would be stored in the Snipe while the rest I secreted in the pockets of my flying coat.
The day before the raid I made sure that my aeroplanes were all serviced and ready to go. We would be taking off in the dark. Sergeant Major Hill was going to arrange lanterns to light the runway. I planned on getting as high as possible and then making a slow descent, at dawn to Sulaimaniya. I had Squadron Leader Ritchie ensure that all the men were well rested. Then I went to the office to see if Sir John had left a message.
Sergeant Major Hill stood when I entered. “Sir, I was talking to Pilot Officer Barker. He told me that you found Squadron Leader Barnes and the other lads when you were up at Mosul. I want to thank you, sir. You didn’t need to take that chance.”
“I did. When I was in the Great War I was shot down behind enemy lines. I was even captured once. Of course, the Germans were more civilised than these Turks and Kurds but I know what it feels like. It is terrifying. We are lucky that all of our kites have made it back to the airfields. If they hadn’t then I would have moved heaven and earth to find them and I would have ignored any orders about crossing borders.”
“It would be even harder here, sir. This is a desolate country. There is nothing here but desert and rock. I am not sure any pilot would survive more than a couple of hours.”
> “You will be amazed what a man can do when he is faced with death. When you have something to live for you can endure almost anything.”
“Fancy a brew sir? I’ll put the kettle on. McIlroy is running an errand for the Air Vice Marshall.”
“Good idea, Sergeant Major and I will have a pipeful.” The tobacco merchant had been so pleased with our action in saving the town that he had sent a humidor with the mix of tobacco. I had the luxury of knowing I had enough to last me until I reach Baghdad. I reamed and cleaned my pipe first and then packed it carefully without tamping down. I struck a match and the aromatic leaves caught. As I drew on it I tamped it down a little with the end of my finger. That was how you could tell a pipe smoker. One finger had hard skin at the end which could endure the fire from a hot pipe. It was drawing nicely when the Sergeant Major returned with the two cups and a plate of biscuits.
“That smells good sir.”
“Help yourself Sarn’t Major. I have a full humidor in my quarters courtesy of a grateful civilian.”
“I don’t mind if I do and a grateful civilian in peace time is a rarity sir. In times of war they do anything for a boy in uniform but as soon as there is peace they whinge on about the cost, the numbers and how they don’t need them anymore.”
“At least it is better now than it used to be, Sergeant Major. Until the end of the last century if you were wounded or lost a limb then you were scrapped and left to beg. But I think it will always be the same.”
We talked of home and peace. Both were alien to the two of us. Daddy Hill had been in even longer than I had. He had been a young soldier in the Boer War. He had never married and I realised that the army was his life.
McIlroy came in. He was out of breath, “Sir, the Air Vice Marshall wants to see you. He is at the main gate. He is off to see Lord Palmer but he wants a word with you first.”
I stood. “Thanks for the tea and the chat, Sergeant Major.”
“And you sir, it is a privilege to serve with you.”