by Al Venter
On route to Kabul there were many aircraft passing below us, and the terrain was almost brutally mountainous. My initial impressions were that the terrain below looked dry and inhospitable and that there was no way that I would have liked to end up on the ground in those ‘hills’ and have to walk back to safety. Apart from the rivers in the foothills and snow in winter, there was very little water once you left the lowlands. Should an aircrew be unexpectedly brought down, either by enemy action or mechanical failure, escape and evasion from the enemy would be a serious matter. Finding water in the mountains, in the summer especially, would be hugely problematical.
Our final approach into Kabul was uneventful. From the air, the city presented a picture like nothing I had ever seen before, the proverbial dust bowl that stretched all the way to the horizon. As we descended, it seemed that that city was surrounded by a grim cauldron of grime. Visibility deteriorated the lower we descended and just about everything reflected an unending monochrome of dusty brown. I got the impression that there were very few trees and certainly no great green grass expanses such as can be found in other parts of the country. In fact, there was very little cultivation within sight of the city.
It was no different once we stepped off the aircraft. Even though it was still early morning, the dry heat all but sucked the air out of my lungs. I was immediately reminded of time spent in Iraq, where I had experienced the same sensation on leaving air-conditioned buildings and going outside.
Kabul Airport, lying at an altitude of 8,000ft is an international airport surrounded by dry, dust-swept mountains that reach up to altitudes of about 14,000ft above sea level. The international airport caters for both civilian and military aircraft of all makes, nationalities and types with different ramps for each arm. Those who observe goings-on at Kabul Airport for the first time will never have seen so many helicopters operating out of one hub at the same time. Most are civilian Mi-8s and all work for a vast range of support groups.
Once on the ground at Kabul, I was met by our local facilitator and, after money changed hands, we headed out to my new home at the compound at Qalah Fatullah. After settling into rudimentary, but clean and comfortable, accommodation I had a few moments to contemplate the next two months in the ‘Stan’—two months was my basic period of contract. Crew rotations in Afghanistan can vary from 12 weeks in-country and a month out, to six weeks in-country and six out.
Pay scales for aircraft commanders range from US$300 per day for non-U.S. contract pilots up to $1,000 a day for those flying for the U.S. contracted companies. Co-pilots on multi-crewed helicopters earn anything between $300 and $500 a day, while flight engineers can sometimes demand $500. Russian crews tend to be paid less than their Western counterparts, in part because there is a surfeit of them looking for this kind of work.
Four, sometimes five months of the year, the higher regions of Afghanistan are covered by snow and ice. While the images are graphic and often quite beautiful, conditions are tough for the air crews. Photo: Neall Ellis
Recently, I was talking to a Ukrainian pilot who had flown Mi-8 and Kamov-32 helicopters for Kabul Air, which enjoys a contract with Supreme, an American firm. Its role was to re-supply American and USAID Provincial Reconstruction Team (PRT) bases in the interior with water and food.
Kabul Air’s pilots were being paid a basic $8,000 a month which was based on 70 hours flying time. If pilots exceeded 70 hours flying time, they got an extra hourly rate of $100. That meant that to earn additional cash, the aviators were likely to exceed 200 hours a month airtime.
It was illegal as, according to Afghanistan’s civil aviation laws, the most a pilot is legally allowed to fly is between 100 and 120 hours a month. Consequently, there was a good deal of subterfuge going on, with many of the helicopters not even having legal documents. Also, their servicing was minimal, which meant more risk. The fact is that pilots as well as companies can lose their Air Operators Licences if they exceed established limits and since the people flying these helicopters get very little time off, one observer described conditions as tantamount to forced labour.
One company operational in Afghanistan has a preference for veteran Russian pilots who flew during the Soviet invasion. If they do not have the requisite civilian licence, it pays them $3,000 a month simply to ‘fill the seat’. Moreover, not many people are even aware that their licences are simply being rolled off from a computer in the company offices in Kabul, which underscores the reality that there is actually very little control over some of the Russian companies working in Central Asia, in part because American contractors are not familiar with the Russian system. Also, these aviators are hungry and they come cheap.
There are a number of civilian operators on flying contracts in Afghanistan. There is Presidential, a subsidiary of Zee (ex-Blackwater) flying Puma S330s, the Department of State (DOS) Air Wing which uses Huey 2 helicopters, Evergreen with their S-61s and Puma helicopters and Molsom, a subsidiary of CHC, flying Bell 212s.
We often worked with the DOS Air Wing as their Huey-2 helicopters would escort our helicopters while we transported important dignitaries into the interior. These ageing battle-craft were customarily armed with 7.62mm machine guns, although some were fitted with M134 six-barrelled Gatlings. These remarkable automatic weapons are not only capable of laying down a tremendous amount of firepower, but their gunners are among the most professional in the business and, as I was to discover, a pretty good bunch to mix with. All were former military, which means that the majority perfectly understand the demands of Afghanistan’s formidable environment.
The DOS Air Wing falls under The U.S. State Department’s Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement, which is basically Dyncorp, an American security company. In addition, Dyncorp flew the same helicopters as we did, the Mi-8 MTV, as part of a huge, ongoing and absolutely futile drug eradication programme.
Various Eastern Bloc countries also have contributions to make, with companies such as Panj, Burundaiavia and others, again equipped with Mi-8s. Some local companies such as Kam Air and Kabul Air lease Mi-8s on contract, where they are used on such missions as supplying Supreme, a logistics company that ships out food supplies to various military bases. There is also Vertical Aviation, a South American Colombian company on contract to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and Abu Dhabi Aviation which was leasing two Bell 412 helicopters to USAID while I was there at the end of 2009.
Top of the pile in a shadowy mode is an extremely secretive unit that we know only as Pegasus. More paramilitary than civilian, they operated a number of Mi-171 and Mi-172 helicopters, which are a more advanced version of the Mi-8 MTV, and flew mostly night operations. Information sources suggested that Pegasus was tasked to support some of the ‘Super Spy’ units operating in remote areas along the ragged frontier with Pakistan and, who knows, perhaps beyond that as well.
Apart from the Russian crews, most of the helicopter pilots flying in Afghanistan are ex-military. In fact, some of the companies such as the DOS Air Wing stipulate that military training with an NVG qualification is essential.
It is difficult to estimate how many helicopters are operating in Afghanistan. If all military units are taken into account—and you add in civilian-registered planes—the numbers must easily be in excess of 500 airframes. This raises another issue: the monumental task of just keeping all these machines operational.
The logistics to provide fuel and ammunition requirements to the many and varied operators are formidable, especially since almost all supplies are brought into the country by road. Some civilian helicopters fly up to 90 hours per month, and once you do your sums, it becomes clear that getting enough fuel into the country to supply these thirsty machines must be a nightmare, particularly since many of the fuel tankers come from Pakistan and convoys are routinely attacked and often destroyed en route by Taliban factions, not only within Afghanistan’s borders, but in Pakistan as well. The majority of these tankers are privately owned, and the owners clearly suffer signi
ficant losses as guerrillas like to target every resupply route within reach.
The day after my arrival merged into a haze of briefings, signing Red Tag notices, NOTAMs and other Special Operations Procedures related to flying operations in Afghanistan. These were followed by briefings on the use of the various tracking devices that we take with us in the aircraft. We were given standard clothing to wear for flying: khaki trousers and Task Force khaki shirts. Because the operation was very low key in terms of military support, we did not even wear flying overalls.
Notably, we were issued with ballistic jackets, the idea being to wear them while flying. I prefer not to use them, in part because of a fellow pilot from the Rhodesian War who was forced down by ground fire and who died because he was wearing one. He wasn’t killed by enemy fire, but by the ballistic jacket, which shattered his throat when his torso was thrown forward on impact. In fact, throughout my operational flying, I have never donned a ballistic jacket and my reasoning is basic. Over many years of piloting helicopters in combat, my machines have taken numerous hits. Usually they would strike the helicopter from the sides or from below and there is no protection on either side of a ballistic jacket.
It was also not lost on me that the helicopter we used in Afghanistan did not have the protection of any ballistic panels. Consequently, had we taken a hit, there would not have been much that we could have done about it.
My personal philosophy about combat flying in choppers is simple: the pilot should fly profiles that do not put him in danger. Firstly, he needs to keep his speed high for as long as possible. If he is shot at, he should avoid evasive manoeuvres. Such flying tends to rapidly bleed off speed and it is unquestionable that a slow-moving machine presents the enemy with an easier target than a relatively fast one.
Also, while I don’t wear a ballistic jacket, my survival vest is an altogether different matter. As far as I am concerned, the vest is one of the most important pieces of equipment any pilot working in a threat environment should wear. The reason is simple— if the helicopter is forced down, either because of engine failure or ground fire, the only equipment a pilot might be left with to aid his survival is what he has on his body.
It is pointless to keep survival equipment stowed in the back of the aircraft. Once the aircraft has hit the ground and started to burn, or if you go down as a consequence of enemy ground fire, it may be impossible to try to recover anything from the back of the aircraft, especially when there are bullets flying. There have been many cases of downed aviators ending up on the ground in unwanted circumstances, with only the contents of their pockets to aid them.
I carry standard stuff such as a hand-held GPS and a VHF air-band radio, a signalling mirror, a whistle, a ‘day-glo’ panel or two, a torch, knives, a fold-up water bottle and a small medical pack. To me, an essential item in this kit is a supply of anti-inflammatory painkillers. Should I have to start running in the hills on an escape and evasion venture, pain killers would allow me to carry on well beyond my accepted physical limits.
It is common knowledge that the approach to landing and the brief period that follows lift-off are the two most dangerous phases of flight in Afghanistan. The Taliban often take up positions close to some of the military bases to shoot at helicopters as they come in to land. Their most favoured weapon for this purpose is still the tried and trusted RPG-7. With a range of 900 metres before self-destructing, it can do a lot of damage to a machine if it strikes in the right place. Small arms weapons such as the AK-47 and the PKM machine gun are also extensively used by the guerrillas.
I am a fierce critic of Russian flying techniques when it comes to take-off and landing in remote areas, of which there are a lot in Afghanistan. The most widely used Russian technique after takeoff from an LZ is to select a relatively steep climbing angle at the best rate of climb of something like 120kph. Granted, the climbrate is relatively high, but these pilots refuse to accept that in choosing this option, they become a slow-moving target for somebody with automatic weapons.
Similarly, their technique for landing is to approach an LZ with a steep descending angle at a low speed, barely a fraction above transition. The few times I have flown with the Russian crews, either as a co-pilot or as a passenger, I have become acutely aware that we made ourselves into an excellent target for anyone with an RPG, or even an assault rifle. There have been numerous civilian Russian helicopters shot down in Afghanistan, and most of them were downed either in the final stages of the approach to landing or, on a few occasions, just after take-off.
In SAAF operational flying training courses, we learned that speed was always the best way to counter incoming fire. The technique was to fly as low as possible after take-off in order to allow the speed to build up before initiating a climb if required. On any landing approach in a hostile area, it is essential to come in as fast as is safely possible before touchdown. The idea is to present a difficult flight path to anybody on the ground intent on causing damage: you need to prevent him from determining a tracking solution that will allow his rounds to enter the airspace at the same time as you do. This is not an easy option for the attacker if the helicopter is moving swiftly. However, if the speed of the aircraft is limited, or almost in the hover, the tracking solution becomes a simple matter and the machine will take a hit.
Our first flights after deployment in Afghanistan were carried out always with one of the experienced helicopter co-pilots accompanying us in the cockpit. These people are familiar with the area as well as the procedures for approaching and landing at the various USAID PRTs scattered around the country. Some of the PRTs are co-located with NATO Forward Operating Bases (FOBs) and because of heavy artillery in some of the locations, we needed to know the correct frequencies as well as approach paths so as not to enter one of the firing lanes while approaching an LZ. Several times we got frantic radio calls from operational personnel warning us off from our approach. When this happened we would orbit in a safe position away from the base until the artillery had completed their fire plan.
This was not an ideal situation: orbiting for any length of time in some of Afghanistan’s hot spots often results in the Taliban firing on slow moving aircraft. Also, flying in circles over an area gives those hostile elements on the ground plenty of practice. You might miss an orbiting helicopter ten times in a row but, if it hangs around long enough, eventually you are going to score a hit.
In certain operational areas, there was sometimes the additional problem of badly coordinated, and often completely uncoordinated, communications between ground forces and aircraft. We’d come into a base and on short finals there would be a huge explosion from an adjacent artillery position as a round or two was fired.
Most of the areas where we land have cement landing pads, with large stones scattered around the LZ. The idea is to prevent dust from being scattered while the helicopter is operational, either coming in or going out, as the pilot losing visual contact with the ground is a hazard in itself.
Very few Afghan bases have runways along which wheeled helicopters might be able to make a rolling start to get airborne. This technique makes for the use of less power as we go through transition to get off the ground. Once through that initial transition, we are able to get airborne with larger or heavier loads and the helicopter can accelerate safely to cruise at speed.
We customarily had four armed ‘shooters’ on board our USAID-contracted Mi-8 helicopters. The job of these professionals was to provide protection should we end up on the ground as a result of a precautionary or forced landing. As pilots for an American government agency, we were not allowed to carry weapons. However, with those armed ‘passengers’ in the back, we were confident that we had adequate protection.
Our ‘shooters’ were mostly expatriate military-trained personnel and most had some form of Special Forces background. Generally, they were an efficient and capable bunch, just the type to have around if a serious situation arose, not only on the ground but also in the various bars scattered ar
ound Kabul that we liked to visit.
As part of a programme of Team Continuation Training, we regularly conducted the kind of drills we would have followed should we have had to make an emergency landing. The ‘shooters’ also arranged firearms training for the air crews at some of the bases we flew to and gave lectures on the various types of weapons that we might have encountered so that we could keep our weapons-handling abilities current. Throughout, they stressed that we should know exactly what to do in an emergency situation and what was expected of us. As one of them succinctly put it, ‘when the shit starts to fly, that’s not the time to learn a new bunch of drills’.
With Afghanistan in an escalating state of war, the Taliban will do what it can to bring down a helicopter, or even a fixed-wing plane. Despite this, more often than not, our Mi-8s tend to live up to the demands expected of them. However, as happens so often in wartime, one tactic is superseded by another. The rebels have recently started taking up positions in the foothills to the east of Kabul, where they just wait for the opportunity to shoot down an aircraft. As they like to say, we might have all the aircraft, but they have the time—lots of it.
In July 2010, several fusillades of RPGs, as well as small arms fire, were directed at a civilian aircraft heading for the runway. Fortunately, the shooting was poor and they missed, but the pilot admitted that he was lucky. Then, also in July 2010, a C-130 on final approach was hit by shrapnel from a self-detonating RPG-7. The plane was able to land safely and nobody on board was injured, but as somebody commented afterwards, it might have been a very different kind of ending. What has become apparent is that the Taliban is now much more focused on shooting down aircraft, especially in the vicinity of Kabul Airport.