Sweating the Metal

by Alex Duncan Frenchie

  It was only later when I looked at the medal after the ceremony that I noticed the thumb print on its face. It was pristine when the Queen lifted it to pin it on my chest and I noticed that her thumb was on the centre of the cross as she placed it, but didn’t think anything of it. I never touched it myself, and then I noticed the slight discoloration where the print was. That’s when it dawned on me that it belonged to the Queen.

  It’s still there, even now.

  PART FOUR

  THE CRUCIBLE OF FIRE

  38

  FORTUNE BY NAME, FORTUNE BY NATURE

  The year of 2009 turned out to be the bloodiest year of all for British Forces in Helmand Province, with the violence the worst it had been since the Taliban was removed from power in 2001. A total of 108 British soldiers died between January and December.

  One of the biggest evolutions to take place that year was the increase in the use of remotely-detonated explosive devices, which were being used to target foreign forces across the country. Around 80% of British deaths in 2009 were as a result of IED explosions, evidencing a change of tactics by the Taliban, who suffered extensive losses in conventional firefights against the better-trained and equipped British and US forces. According to figures from iCasualties.org, ISAF deaths attributed to IEDs rose from 41 in 2006 to 368 in 2010 – an increase of almost 900%.

  Predictably perhaps, the knock-on effects were felt by the Chinook Force too, as the tempo of operations increased and the IRT flew more missions than ever. As 2010 rolled around, changes were made to the set-up at Camp Bastion to improve response times; the crews for the IRT cab, the MERT and those Apaches providing the escort, moved to dedicated accommodation just yards from the pan, meaning the aircraft were now just a few steps from the JOC and their tents.

  There were other changes, too. US President Barack Obama announced his long-awaited strategy for Afghanistan and deployed a further 30,000 troops to supplement the 70,000 soldiers already in theatre. Britain, already the second largest provider of troops to the region, sent a further 1,200, taking the total number to 9,500 with the vast bulk – 6,200 – in Helmand Province.

  At a more local level, JHF (A) integrated into the US 3rd Marine Aviation Wing, part of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, a logical and tactical step forward in terms of US and UK helicopters working alongside each other within the new region of RC Southwest. The old RC South was divided along provincial lines: RC Southwest (Helmand Province) and RC Southeast (Kandahar Province).

  The pressure on the Chinook Force was alleviated to a degree by an increase in frames; by 2010, we had nine Chinooks in theatre; ten Apaches; four Lynx; four Sea Kings and a total of six Merlins. In addition, the organisation and effectiveness of the IRT was enhanced by the addition of two US Army HH-60 Pedro Black Hawk ‘Dust-offs’ on call alongside the Chinooks. RAF Fast Air Support was now supplied by Tornado GR-4s which replaced the Harrier GR-7s and GR-9s that had fulfilled that role from the beginning.

  While I was busy training the next generation of Chinook crews back in the UK, my colleagues from previous Dets were back out in theatre flying under fire and making the headlines. Flt Lt Ian ‘Chomper’ Fortune, who flew as JP’s co-pilot on Operation Oqab Sturga in 2008, was fortunate to escape with his life in January after coming under heavy, sustained fire on an IRT mission, a sortie for which he was later awarded a well-deserved DFC for some outstanding leadership and inspirational flying under the most testing conditions. His actions also attracted the attention of GAPAN, which awarded him its Grand Master’s Commendation for 2009/10, and December 2010’s The Sun Military Awards, at which he received the Most Outstanding Airman award. Ian’s aircraft came under sustained fire by the Taliban and was hit a total of eight times, resulting in a series of system failures including damage to the flight stabilisation system and forward transmission. Ian was also hit – the first time in the nine-year war that a pilot has been shot while in the air.

  The cab that he was flying – ZA718, better known by her squadron code Bravo November (BN) – is interesting in and of itself. One of the original batch of thirty-three Chinook HC2s delivered to the Royal Air Force in early 1982, she’s seen action in every major operation involving the RAF in the helicopter’s almost thirty-year service life. She was one of four Chinooks that travelled to the Falkland Islands on the Atlantic Conveyor which was sunk with the loss of all its cargo. It was struck by two Exocet missiles while waiting to offload at San Carlos Water. By chance, BN was airborne on an engineering test flight at the time of the attack and was diverted to HMS Hermes.

  As the only helicopter available in the Falkland Islands, she then had to endure a punishing flying programme without spares, tools or appropriate lubricants for several weeks, in appalling weather conditions. On one particular mission, BN ran into a blizzard on her way to San Carlos Water and crashed into the sea at 100 knots. Despite water swamping the cockpit and engines, she still managed to get airborne again due to the bravery of pilot Richard Langworthy, who was awarded the DFC. The cab would go on to see two more of her pilots awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for actions while in command of BN by 2010; Ian Fortune was the third. Ian and I met up not long after he returned from theatre, when he told me his story:

  ‘We got the shout at around 15:20 and while I confirmed the limited details that were available, Doug Gardner, who was my co-pilot, went with our crewmen – Paul Day and Tony Sutherland – to spin the aircraft up. We were ready to lift within minutes. As well as the MERT and force protection team on board, I also had a camera crew from the Discovery Channel filming for a series called Frontline Battle Machines. Information was sketchy, but we knew there were six US and ANA casualties – three T1s and three T2s, all with gunshot wounds – at a grid near Lashkar Gah. They’d been involved in a fierce and protracted firefight which was still going on.

  ‘En route, our Apache escort, Ugly Five Zero, called us and said the LS was too hot, so we held off. To make matters worse, the JTAC – who would normally coordinate the extraction – was one of the critically wounded.

  ‘I flew a holding pattern at height about ten miles out from the emergency LS. We could see events unfolding on the ground and soon another Apache joined our escort – both then engaged the Taliban, laying down heavy suppressing fire to assist the ground units. Doug worked out we had enough fuel for about forty-five minutes total holding. After about twenty minutes of flying random patterns to avoid predictability, I dropped down to low level to deceive any dickers into thinking we were beginning our run into the LS.

  ‘The ground troops were desperately trying to secure the LS but, even with the two Apaches providing air support, they were struggling. Every time they stepped out of cover, the Taliban targeted them with heavy and effective SAFIRE; we were cleared into the LS at least three times before being told to: “Hold, Hold, Hold!”

  ‘Having already taken casualties, including one KIA, the ground troops were in a very difficult situation. It was obvious that we’d be cleared in at the first sign of any lull in the fighting, but the LS was never going to be fully secure. By this time, we were well aware of how long we’d been holding and we were desperate to get those boys out.

  ‘Eventually, the Apache called us over the radio. “Tricky Seven Three, Ugly Five Zero, enemy are north and north-east of the LS. Route in from the west; the LS will be marked with smoke.”

  ‘Around forty minutes after arriving on station, we received positive clearance into the LS with a reminder of the enemy forces’ firing points and ingress route. As a result of the radio chat and gauging the general feel of the situation I said, “I think we’ll put our visors down on this one chaps,” which isn’t always practical in the desert, as they can become scratched and dusty, making it harder to retain good references.

  ‘I began the descent from the east at 155kts and explained my intentions to the crew so that everyone would have situational awareness of the Taliban’s firing points on the approach. The plan was to route south of the
LS and come right until we were going in from the west. Then, as I began the final approach, I’d kick the tail right to bring the starboard M134, which Tony was manning, to bear on the enemy firing points in the 3–5 o’clock position. I saw the white smoke and, with half a mile to run, I began turning the tail through 180° and reversed towards the compounds where the troops had been taking cover. I landed on the smoke with the starboard M134 providing covering arcs.

  ‘Almost as soon as I landed, I saw puffs of dirt as rounds hit the ground in our 1 o’clock, with muzzle flashes in our 4 o’clock. The ground troops were laying down a barrage of covering fire as the stretcher teams worked with the casualties at the rear. Then I noticed dirt being kicked up as rounds tore into the ground in front of the cockpit. The second that ground forces broke cover with the casualties, the Taliban opened up on them. The weight of fire was incredible – the guys in the back could hear the sound of the guns and rounds ricocheting nearby, even over the sound of the blades.

  ‘The rate of fire from the ground troops increased rapidly and I twice saw a line of large impact clouds 100m away in our 3 o’clock, moving parallel with the aircraft axis. I reckoned it was from the Apaches’ 30mm cannon. By now, the wounded were coming on board, but even as they were assisted up the ramp, the Taliban had a bead on us and the cab started taking effective fire. I felt a few thuds as rounds impacted the airframe and asked Doug to check the Ts and Ps. Then I heard and felt a round come in somewhere just below me. A few seconds later, I was informed the ramp was up and I got the all clear from Paul. At this stage, the amount of covering fire from the ground forces doubled, but it seemed to me that the rate of enemy fire also increased.

  ‘I pulled full power and stuck the nose down to get the fuck out but, as I transitioned to height, I felt more rounds strike the aircraft. About twenty seconds after lifting, I heard a succession of loud bangs and then my head was forced violently back. When I opened my eyes, there were several large cracks in my visor, which had blood spattered all over it. Then I saw the bullet hole and the spiderweb cracks surrounding it at the base of my windscreen. I smelled burning and cordite, and then my blood ran cold as I realised I’d been shot in the head.

  ‘The bullet came through the windscreen in front of me and struck my visor before gouging a chunk off the front of the NVG rail. That deflected it under the outer skin of my helmet and out the top, where it smashed through the top windscreen into the sky. Talk about lucky – if the round had been fired a fraction of a second earlier, if the gunman had aimed 1mm lower, if the NVG rail hadn’t deflected it, its trajectory would have sent it straight through my face and out the back of my head. Now that really got my attention!

  ‘I looked at Doug to make sure he was okay – he was fine and, at that stage, unaware I’d been hit. I could feel blood running down my face and neck and soaking my body armour. I couldn’t quite put it all together; I knew I’d been hit in the head, but it didn’t make sense – I felt fine. I had good references and, after a cursory glance down myself, I was happy to continue flying.

  ‘“Chaps, I’ve just been shot in the face but I think I’m okay,” I said. “I took a round through the front windscreen which came up and hit me on the head. I’ve got a bit of a crack and a bleed there.”

  ‘“Fuck. You okay mate?” Doug asked, looking shocked.

  ‘“Yeah, bit shaken, but otherwise okay, I think.”

  He was mindful that if my condition deteriorated he’d have to take control.

  ‘“Ian, we’ve lost the AFCS and hydraulics, both secured,” said Doug as he scanned the CAP. Then, “Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Tricky Seven Three, nine miles to the south. We’ve taken rounds through the cockpit; we’ve also got some transmission problems. Mayday! Tricky Seven Three, contact, nine miles to the south.”

  ‘“Thanks Doug, can you keep an extra close eye on the transmission Ts and Ps? I’m going to try and maintain our speed and I think, because of the casualties, I’m going to push towards Bastion. If necessary, we’ll land in clear desert, but only if we absolutely have to.”

  ‘The aircraft was shaking and handling like a pig without the stabilisation system, but I managed to keep her on track.

  ‘Doug was following me through on the controls in case my injuries were worse than I first thought – at this stage, I didn’t know how bad they were. I was covered in blood, but then even the tiniest head wound tends to bleed like a stuck pig. The left side of my face ached like a bitch, but I was still conscious and clear headed. The medics came into the gangway several times to examine me, but due to the fragile state of the cab and the fact I felt fine, I declined assistance. By now, we were clear of the Green Zone and just minutes out from Bastion, so I told them I’d accept treatment on the ground once we’d delivered the casualties.

  ‘I landed the aircraft next to Nightingale HLS at 17:00 to keep the landing site clear and allow access by other call signs. Then I gave clearance for the ramp to be lowered and Paul Day then gave me a running commentary as the casualties were taken off. Aware that I wanted to shut down as soon as possible, both he and Tony assisted with the off-load. They let me know as soon as the ambulances were clear and I shut down. As I climbed out of the cockpit I was immediately supported by the medics who led me off the aircraft and onto an ambulance where I was taken to hospital. I needed twelve stitches in my head, new body armour to replace mine, which was completely soaked in blood, and a new helmet. My shot-up helmet now has pride of place in the Mess.

  ‘The whole crew were brilliant in how they pulled together. In fact, there were several times where Doug, Paul and Tony all went above and beyond the call of duty. Doug’s actions were well ahead of what you’d expect from someone on his first tour, working under the constant possibility of having to recover the aircraft alone. Paul and Tony also acted beyond expectations and put themselves in harm’s way, assisting the medics and casualties, despite enemy fire landing close to them.

  ‘This is a team I was proud to work with.’

  39

  ABOVE AND BEYOND THE CALL

  Alex Townsend, who had been my co-pilot throughout the missions for which I received the DFC, was back out in theatre in 2010 as an experienced captain, and coming under fire himself. He later received a Queen’s Commendation for Bravery (QCBA) and was given the Hugh Gordon-Burge Memorial Award by GAPAN for his actions on a number of sorties that he flew in February.

  About three weeks earlier, on January 22nd, his cab took rounds when he was flying the IRT on a mission to pick up Rifleman Peter Aldridge of A Company, 4 Rifles who had been blown up by an IED while on patrol to the north of Sangin. Alex landed next to Peter’s colleagues while they were engaged in a firefight, and just as Rifleman Aldridge was loaded, the cab was hit by several 7.62mm rounds, one of which Alex later picked up – it now lives in his room. The Apache providing escort for him was also hit, although none of the rounds hit vital systems or caused injury on either aircraft. Sadly, despite flying the cab at its limits to get back, Peter succumbed to his wounds and became the 250th British soldier to die on operations in Afghanistan.

  The missions and events for which Alex received his QCBA occurred on February 13th 2010 – the sort of day where you’d rather have stayed in bed. I’ll let Alex explain what happened…

  ‘On the day in question, I was captain of the IRT. Waldo was my co-pilot, and in the back I had two very experienced crewmen – Daz Beattie, who had been with me since OCF, and Richie Burke. We were operating in support of Operation Moshtarak, the largest helicopter insert since Gulf War I, and were on five minutes’ notice to move.

  ‘We’d already responded to one call out and, shortly after getting back to the tent, were called out again at 10:10 to pick up a T1 and a T3, both with head injuries. They were British soldiers whose vehicle had driven over an IED in the Nadi Ali area, north-west of Lashkar Gah. Just after take-off, I saw a bird in our 12 o’clock that seemed to be doing its level best to commit suicide by helicopter. Whichever way I manoeuvred,
it stayed on our nose and, like a rabbit caught in headlights, it stayed there until the inevitable happened; it impacted the windscreen directly in front of Waldo. Result: RAF one, Bird nil.

  ‘Normally, we’d return after a bird strike to have the aircraft checked over properly but with a T1 waiting on us, I elected to carry on. After crossing the Green Zone, I descended to about 50ft and advised the Apache we’d be inbound for the LS in one minute. A few seconds later, we heard a loud explosion and suddenly, the NR decreased and I felt the cab descend. The N1, or compressor speed on the No.1 engine, dropped like a stone, followed by the N2, or turbine speed – both down to zero in under a second, indicating a catastrophic engine failure.

  ‘The aircraft dropped below 40ft and the RadAlt alarm sounded, so I partially flared the cab to arrest the descent. As soon as I established we were in level flight, I turned the residual speed – around 150kts – to minimum power speed, which is about 70kts. This enabled me to turn away from the threat area around Nadi Ali and establish a track towards the Red Desert; if I had to crash-land, that would be the safest option – as far away from the Taliban as possible. Richie had a look at the engine and couldn’t see any damage, so I decided its failure probably wasn’t down to enemy action.

  ‘Our biggest problem was that we were at ultra-low level, unable to climb, and we still had to cross the Green Zone, which is a very high-threat area. With an engine failure, there’s usually no way you’d be able to maintain level flight in Afghanistan due to the heat and the altitude, but we were exceptionally lucky the engine failed earlier in the day when it was cooler. As air is denser when it’s cool, you need less power. The worst thing was leaving the guys we’d been scrambled to pick up – that was truly gut-wrenching, probably the worst feeling I’ve had in Afghanistan. They were badly injured and relying on us but we had to abandon them, flying away to save the cab, and our own asses.