Filling the air with banter, we all extracted our cookers from our packs and organised a fire to huddle around in an effort to keep warm. Eventually dawn arrived, bringing with it the sun. Endex (end of exercise) was called and with great relief we headed for our Saxon armoured personnel carriers for the return journey to Westdown Camp.
Each Saxon was equipped with fire extinguishers. Normally, they were activated by pulling a safety pin and then pressing a button. This particular type could be set off by banging the top of it which resulted in a non-stop massive flow of frothy foam. On this occasion, one of B Company’s Saxons had driven in and hit a massive pothole, the impact setting off an extinguisher inside the vehicle. The result was hilarious; when the door opened, a number of snowmen staggered out covered in foam from top to toe. We all just split our sides laughing! It was perfect timing for this to happen when everyone was so relieved to be going home after such a long and cold exercise. B Company covered in white foam – priceless! I don’t think I will ever forget that moment. Learning a lot, making lifelong friends and forming lifelong memories, that one so funny, were some of the best aspects of my early days in the battalion.
9 Platoon, although we were always proud of it, was always undermanned and this discriminated against us during competitions because we tended to lose, sometimes by quite some margin. There were only sixteen of us, whereas a full-strength platoon numbered thirty-two men in three sections of eight men and a platoon headquarters, so we were at half-strength while the other two platoons in our company, 10 and 11 Platoons, were well up to strength.
Meanwhile, I remained very keen to join the Sniper Platoon. I had discovered from a guy who had previously completed the sniper course that you had to have served for at least six months before you could even be selected or put forward for the course. Eventually, due to the time I had served and possessing a certain degree of aptitude, I was allowed to attempt selection for the snipers. The platoon had only two vacancies for which there were twelve candidates. This was soon whittled down to seven and eventually, following a few injuries, there were only five of us left. One of these was a guy called Alex Hawkins who passed on this attempt. This was the first time I had met him and we got on really well. I would come into contact with him again in due course, but for now our paths parted as I unfortunately failed on this attempt to join the platoon. However this was the summer of 2004 and the beginning of an exciting period in my army career, beginning with a move to the Brigade Surveillance Company for a forthcoming tour of operations tour in Iraq.
CHAPTER 4
Becoming a Sniper
On returning from Iraq, I was still utterly determined to try again for sniper selection. This time I was successful, being one of twelve who passed out of the seventeen candidates who attempted selection.
I was so proud to have been accepted into the Sniper Platoon although I never became what is known as a ‘badged’ sniper, something that was always a source of great disappointment to me. I was so very close, but on the Badge Tests I just always seemed to be a few points short. There was always a huge degree of pride and achievement attached to being ‘badged’ and to some of the older members of the platoon, you were considered an incredibly good ‘sharpshooter’ rather than a sniper. Despite this, I was now a member of the platoon, doing exactly the same as everyone else. It was probably more just me, but I felt that maybe I lacked the same level achievement as the ‘badged’ guys. That said, as time went on and with us doing exactly the same job, my attitude was that, sharpshooter or sniper, I was still in the platoon, wearing a ghillie suit and carrying an L96A1 sniper rifle – I had passed selection and felt I could consider myself pretty damned good because of it.
I remember the first day I met Alex again, along with Teddy. We were in a four-man room together. Apart from some periodical changes of personnel, we all found life in the platoon relatively easy. Deano, Cas, and Kingy had passed selection as well and came from C Company. CD and Burney came from A Company. TM and Teddy both came from B Company. Jock and OB both came from HQ Company and LC joined from the Brigade Surveillance Company. Two other members were Robbo and Spud had been in the platoon for years, both being ‘badged.’
We would go down for muster parade at around 8.00 am in the morning and then head off for our platoon training. One subject, for example, was observation training. We would be given an hour to sketch a panoramic view of what we could observe. We would need to enter detail facing north, south, east or west, marking in the left and right of arc of fire and our location. We would observe and note key ranges where there might be a prominent road or a fallen tree. In addition, we had to locate certain items of military equipment pre-positioned in the area under observation for us to spot, such as a bayonet stuck in the ground, a radio antenna poking up from amongst reeds or a bush, or other items such as rifle magazines, radio batteries or a flare launcher. Using binoculars and telescopes, we would have to search for and log anything we saw, being awarded points for items observed, measuring bearings correctly, plotting arcs of fire and logging other information. Attention to detail was always paramount in the Sniper Platoon.
I would have liked to have spent more time on the ranges but, when you consider that we used almost a year’s allocation of 7.62mm sniper grade ammunition during a single badge test, it is probably understandable why this was not possible. We shot at ranges of up to 900 metres and were awarded ten points for a hit on a target at 900 metres from a cold barrel. Out of all the times I attempted this, which was only perhaps eight occasions, I succeeded six times. We learned to shoot in all weather conditions; one of the few times I failed to hit the target was in pouring rain with a very high wind.
I remember that we all wanted to practise shooting from helicopters, but our NCO instructors just laughed, because that was not going to happen. Life in the Sniper Platoon was different to that in the rest of the battalion, as was the mentality of the NCOs who treated us with a lot more respect. I noticed other subtle changes too, such as the way the guys from the rifle companies looked up to us. They would not admit it of course, but one could tell, particularly on those occasions when the whole battalion was assembled and the Sniper Platoon was formed up together. This was probably because we were one of the elements in the battalion that you had to be selected for, which made it all just a little different and somehow special. I really loved being part of it.
I had just turned twenty years of age and was really quite happy with life because I had done a tour of Iraq, had succeeded in joining the snipers on merit and was where I wanted to be. Looking back, I do not think I would have been able to imagine life becoming much better until I was put forward to be selected for promotion to lance corporal, which was what eventually happened. Out of around sixty people who went for promotion, only thirty-two passed and I came ninth. I was one of the more junior on the list, so this was quite an achievement for me. Unfortunately, the Commanding Officer was only selecting the top eight candidates for promotion on that particular occasion. I did not have to wait long because only three months later I was promoted.
CHAPTER 5
Life as a Sniper
On joining the Sniper Platoon, I was put into Robbo’s section, which was equipped with what became my nightmare: quad bikes. We were given some training on them and received what would normally be called a licence, but we called it a conversion. We were out on exercise with them all the time, doing really steep hill climbs and hill descents sometimes with a trailer sometimes not, but generally becoming proficient on them by day and night, navigating and moving from point to point. I was the first to roll my quad and this became a pattern for me that continued. Whereas the other guys took to the quads like ducks to water, I struggled and really did not like them. To begin with I thought they were fun but, as we went off on exercise over terrain that had been churned up by tanks and then set like rock in the sun, the going became really difficult. I cannot recall the number of times I fell off my machine, to the point that it became reall
y frustrating and not fun at all. I just could not seem to get to grips with it.
Tom, on the other hand, turned out to be a ‘Quad God’ because he had been riding them since he was around eight years old, while Robbo and LC were both guys who were just good at everything they did. But then there was me. On our first exercise with the quads, we were on Salisbury plain following the Reconnaissance Platoon in its Scimitar CVR-Ts (Combat Vehicle Reconnaissance Tracked – a type of light tank). We had pushed forward miles ahead of the rifle platoons and were clearing woods and locating enemy positions. Robbo and I had split up from LC and Tom and we were just behind a CVR-T when its commander told us that he needed to cross some open ground but was unhappy that a wood in the distance to the west had not been cleared. He asked Robbo if we could dart across and clear it for him.
We made our way towards the wood, using the low ground for cover. Rounding a corner, we came across a huge puddle with very high banks. Robbo began to traverse across the edge while I gave him cover. As he got half way across his quad rolled into the water, pinning him underwater. Dropping my rifle and jumping off my quad, I dashed to help him. His head surfaced as he shouted, ‘JC! JC!’ before slipping back underwater. I yelled, ‘I’m coming! I’m coming!’ as I ran splashing into the muddy water which was waist deep. Groping below the water, I grabbed the quad and heaved with a huge grunt like an Olympic weightlifter. I felt Robbo’s hands grab my ankles before he swam between my legs and surfaced behind me gasping for breath.
Later that day, Robbo opened his ammunition container which held, among other things, all his food and took out a packet of tortillas which he was going to use for a sandwich. The packet was already opened, and the soaked tortillas were just like chamois leathers. Just as I lit a cigarette, he threw one at me and it hit me square on the face, slapping and wrapping around it like a face hugger from the film Aliens. Such was life with us, and it was good stuff.
Such was my dislike of the quads that eventually I asked if I could move to another section. Shortly afterwards, the announcement came that we were going to Afghanistan for deployment into Helmand province, so everything changed. Bernie was terminating and so was posted to help train Lithuanian snipers. LC also terminated at the same time as Spud, and right at the last moment we took on another four guys: Vinny, Jimmy, Scotty and Dan. So, with Deano, Tom, Alex and me now being promoted, we were appointed as section commanders and seconds-in-command (2IC). No. 1 Section had Jock in command with CD (Donnie) as 2IC, with OB and Jimmy as shooters. They were to be attached to A Company. No. 2 Section had Deano in command with myself as 2IC with Teddy and Scotty as the shooters, and was to be attached to B Company. Teddy was my shooter – the more experienced shooter went with the 2IC while the other was paired with the section commander. No. 3 Section had Robbo in command with Tom as 2IC and Cas and Dan as shooters. They were to be attached to C Company. No. 4 Section was commanded by Mo (an old school sniper) with Alex as 2IC and Kingy and Vinny as shooters.
At this time, we changed from the manoeuvre support groups (MSG) role to that of fire support groups (FSG), which also incorporated the Machine Gun and Anti-Tank Platoons, this being a lesson learned from 3 PARA which was the first battalion to deploy into Helmand the year before. Unlike us, the Paras had to construct their forward bases, which they called Platoon Houses, whilst under attack from the enemy; at the same time, they were tasked with driving the enemy back through offensive action. This was really hard tough work.
We were equipped for our new role with the new L115A1 .338 sniper rifle. A formidable weapon, it was bigger, heavier and louder than the L96A1 sniper rifles we had used previously in the UK. The L96A1 is a very accurate and powerful rifle but on operations in Helmand we mainly used the L115A1 which, being a larger calibre weapon and firing a more powerful round, performed better at longer ranges.
The snipers were generally pretty popular, particularly among the officers who seemed to think we were the best thing since sliced bread. The platoon sergeants also thought we were pretty cool. We knew these guys quite well because at this point I had served with the Royal Anglians for four years and there were actually a few sergeants in B Company who were corporals in C Company when I was there. Joel Adlington was a full corporal in B Company and I had known him since we were both privates in C Company. Jay, later promoted to Sergeant, used to be a sniper and was now a section commander in B Company. I knew him quite well as he had trained us on our sniper cadre. Equally, there were quite a few new guys whom I did not know who were really good lads and a brilliant laugh. All in all, my section was filled with a great bunch of excellent soldiers who were a great laugh and we all got on well.
Although our forthcoming deployment would be for six months, in reality a tour of operations lasts for a year because the six months beforehand are devoted to training under the supervision of the Operational Training Advisory Group (OPTAG). The training programme consists of exercise after exercise with the battalion away a lot of the time and constantly undergoing more and more fitness for role training at the same time.
One example of this took place every Friday when, before we could go home, we had to do what is referred to as the ‘CO’s Blow.’ As the name suggests, this is a real fitness blow-out and the Commanding Officer selects what the battalion does for fitness. Approaching final deployment, it reached to the point where we were doing almost decathlons in full kit weighing around 50 pounds. As part of the FSG the snipers, along with the Machine Gun and Anti-Tank Platoons, were made to run miles with full kit while also carrying jerrycans full of water. This was exhausting and unfortunately only one part of the ‘CO’s Blow’ as we would then have to push Land Rovers up an upward sloping road, then run around to do a full assault course followed by a three-mile steeplechase run before carrying the biggest fattest bloke from the MT (motor transport) Platoon all the way back to barracks. We would then have to carry large tyres and heavy chains along with other things around for two or three hours. All this training was essential because it would undoubtedly give us the edge on the enemy during operations.
As part of our pre-deployment training, we also spent five weeks on exercise in Kenya, the aim of which was firstly to ensure that we became acclimatised to extreme heat but also to prepare us for forthcoming operations. This began with section tactics, progressing through platoon to company attacks. The companies underwent the training programme individually in the same order they would be deployed to Afghanistan, which was A, C and B.
CHAPTER 6
Deployment
An infantry battalion comprises three rifle companies, a support company, and a headquarter Company. Each rifle company consists of three platoons, with a platoon comprising three sections and a platoon headquarters. Each company has its own headquarters element consisting of the officer commanding (OC), the second-in-command (2IC,) the company sergeant major (CSM), the company quartermaster sergeant (CQMS) and his storemen who are responsible for the organisation and issue of the company’s stores, rations, ammunition and equipment.
I was in D Company, which comprised the sniper, reconnaissance, mortar, machine gun and anti-tank platoons. The latter were always referred to as the Javelin Platoon, that being the name of missile system with which it was equipped. The Javelin is a fire-and-forget system; locking on to the target whilst still in its launching tube and then tracking it during flight right up to the moment of impact and detonation It is a really good bit of kit, albeit each missile costs £40,000. During the coming months our battle group would fire 142 of these missiles during operations in Afghanistan. You don’t need a calculator to work out that particular of the cost of war. We were shown film footage of a Javelin destroying an old tank to give us an idea of the destructive power of the weapon. On watching it Caz said, ‘I don’t quite know what I was expecting, maybe the Monty Python foot to come down or something.’
The fire support groups (FSG) that made up D Company were attached to A, B and C companies, with my own supporting B Company. We
spent a few weeks packing all of our kit and handing in our MFO boxes with ‘comfy kit’ which would be transported by sea to Afghanistan. Meanwhile we took two weeks pre-deployment leave.
I saw a lot of my family during this leave. We all knew I was going into a real war zone and that inevitably there would be casualties. I remember my brother saying, ‘Don’t be a hero. Just do your job, nothing more and nothing less.’ Having to say goodbye to my girlfriend Annie was very hard and although we had been apart before, through the Iraq tour and exercises elsewhere, we both knew that this would be very different. I had come across a video on YouTube that the Paras had made during their tour of Afghanistan a year previously and I was well aware that it gave an accurate picture. I watched it over and over again in an attempt to familiarise myself with the type of terrain and the likely tasks we would be performing. Annie watched it with me and was not happy at all and, after watching the dangers I would face, she became more and more apprehensive about me going. In fairness, she never moaned or asked me to quit because she knew it was what I wanted to do. She was really very good about it, although it was clearly hard at times for her, supporting me all the way, which was fantastic. This demonstrated to me the strength of the bond between us, and the depth of her love for me.
As we said our goodbyes, my father told me how proud he was of me and I remember mentioning that he could now probably understand how his father must have felt when he himself went off to the Falklands War. I felt there was a close bond between us just then, which others were unable to share, because of the unique circumstances my father and I shared. Everyone put on a brave face and continued telling me how proud they were of me. Now, I just wanted to go and get the job done and come home in one piece. I had no idea then just how many times I would come close to being killed.
Sniper in Helmand: Six Months on the Frontline Page 3