At this point I decided to find out where Corporal Martin was and tell him that there were enemy attempting to outflank us to the right, and that one of them had spotted me and pretty much emptied a magazine at me. I then met up with Teddy and Corporal Parker’s section as 5 Platoon moved up on our left flank and came under heavy fire from the enemy. It became apparent that the enemy were moving up from the other side of the canal against the steep bank, which was why we could not see them. They had been popping up on the other side of this bank, firing over from only around 50 metres away then getting back down and scurrying back off. By now they had moved right along the canal and spotted 5 Platoon, and started to lay down more heavy fire.
We called up a fire mission over the radio for our mortars to finish off any of the Taliban on that part of the canal, quickly taking up positions so we were at a safe distance from the bombs. We were observing the treeline when Corporal Parker spotted the enemy and shouted, ‘There’s one in the trees! Rapid fire, rapid fire!.’ Private John Thrumble responded with his GPMG, accompanied by six others with their SA80s, while Teddy also joined in with his .338, a heavy volume of fire smashing into the treeline. We all watched as a limp, lifeless body fell out of the trees and thumped to the ground on the other side of the canal. Thereafter, we continued firing and launched a number of 40mm grenades, fired from underbarrel grenade launchers (UGLs), into the area. A hand grenade was thrown by one of our number but it had no effect as it struck the bank on the far side before rolling down and exploding in the canal, showering us with water.
The message came through that we were moving back for a ‘pick up.’ It was decided that we could not cross the river, because there was only really one main crossing point provided by a rickety old wooden bridge and that would have been suicidal to use. So the call was made for the canal area to be bombarded by the mortars while we pulled out of there. We could hear them in the distance beginning to fire. They called each pair of mortars with a number. For example, if the distance and trajectory was going to take fifteen seconds from point of firing to point of impact, it was called, ‘Shot one five.’ When you consider we were only around 50 metres away from the Taliban and were already beginning to hear our mortars being fired in quick succession, you can see why we really needed to pull out fast.
As we moved away, we cleared a compound by firing into it and throwing grenades in through doorways. We also threw smoke grenades and ran through the smoke while continuing to withdraw. The enemy fire died down to almost nothing as we heard our own mortar bombs whistling down and impacting on the other side of the canal, explosion after explosion after explosion. We were ‘tabbing’ at a fast pace and I can remember being incredibly pumped up as the adrenalin flowed.
As we stopped by a dried-up river bed, the vehicles appeared. We were sharing ours with some of the combat engineers led by a big fat Welsh corporal. One of the sappers was of Asian appearance, similar to a Gurkha, and next to him was a very pale-skinned Jock with ginger hair. They watched wide-eyed as we piled in and ripped off our helmets, pouring with sweat and gulping water like madmen as we swapped accounts of the action. We talked fast, wondering if others had spotted the body falling out of the tree or me nearly getting my head blown off and other things like this as we began to pull away. Unfortunately our vehicle didn’t have air conditioning, so every time we stopped we threw the back door open and gulped at the air, before having to close it again as we continued. On reaching the open desert, we halted and set up all-round defence. This was our first patrol on MOGs and it had certainly proved to be eventful.
The next village we were scheduled to patrol was a place called Zumberlay. The Marines we relieved had told us that they had been involved in a lengthy action there, scoring quite a number of kills.
After a night’s rest, we replenished our ammunition and water supplies and drove back into the Sangin Valley. This time we entered it slightly further to the north, dismounting on some high ground over to the east of Zumberlay and receiving a set of quick battle orders. The plan was to break into the village and then push north-west to the limit of exploitation, the furthest point up to which we were permitted to advance. The FSG was staying on the high ground to cover us, so we dismounted and 5 Platoon, which was to take the lead on this particular patrol, prepared for battle.
I saw Deano and Scotty and gave them a thumbs-up just as the last man of 5 Platoon disappeared into the dead ground while Teddy, I and 7 Platoon advanced to the ridge to give fire support. We were moving up when we heard a massive explosion as an RPG whistled overhead and impacted some 200 metres behind us. We ran forward to start observing and shots rang out as 5 Platoon engaged the enemy. Meanwhile Deano and Scotty scrambled up on to a compound roof. Another RPG was launched at us, exploding behind us but closer this time as the Taliban began to find their range. We could hear the FSG beginning to fire Javelin missiles but could not see anything until we saw a compound literally blown to pieces, which sent us whooping and giving high fives.
5 Platoon continued pushing forward and the firing ceased as 7 Platoon moved along the same route in and pushed around to the left to give flank protection. After about the seventh compound, as we reached a wide open road and began to cross, 5 Platoon halted and gave us cover as we moved forward with Major Aston to meet the commander of 5 Platoon. We looked at the different possible approaches and decided to parallel each other on either side of the road.
Teddy and I then took up a position on a roof to provide over-watch. Corporal Parker’s section was going to be the first into the compounds, accompanied by a combat engineer equipped with a bar-mine. Originally designed for use against tanks, we were using them to blow large holes, known as ‘mouseholes’, in the walls of compounds to gain entry. The shock wave from an exploding bar mine is phenomenal. I was always told to close my eyes and open my mouth so that the air in your lungs can escape through your mouth to avoid any risk of internal damage. The trouble was, if you opened your mouth too wide you would get a mouth full of dust, debris and God knows what else. On the other hand, if you didn’t open it enough, your teeth would whack together so hard it really hurt.
The ‘mousehole’ was blown and Corporal Parker’s section burst into the compound, bayonets fixed, firing rounds and throwing a few grenades as they went in, not taking any chances because the enemy could have been in any of the compounds we were clearing. Luckily this one was clear, so Sergeant Woodrow launched Corporal Martin’s section with Teddy and I following up behind. It was a big compound, but empty apart from dead poppies.
Teddy climbed on to a flimsy roof while I stayed on the ground as we did not want to risk falling through it. Although we needed to position ourselves on these roofs to obtain the best possible vantage points, some of them were made of solid mud and straw while others were just straw, so we had to be careful. The rest of 7 Platoon came in and took up positions to give us our own defence. We had air support in the form of a Harrier on station, so Major Aston halted us to give the pilot a chance to try to find the enemy from above or for our FAC to give him targets to engage. After about ten minutes the pilot reported that he could not see anything moving, so he had decided to carry out a ‘show of force’ – a low-level pass over the area. Teddy tossed me his camera and I succeeded in filming the aircraft as it hurtled in at treetop height, the roar from its engines deafening us below.
As the Harrier flew away, 5 and 7 Platoons continued north to Zumberlay. We were totally unopposed as we patrolled but knew we were being watched. We did not take any chances, sprinting when crossing open spaces and zigzagging to make ourselves difficult targets. Eventually we completed the task and called for a pick-up by our Vikings which appeared at the edge of the village where we mounted up with still no sound from the enemy.
We drove back out to the desert and the company spent the next few days patrolling various villages in the area, but nothing of any note really happened, apart from a couple of contacts similar to that at Zumberlay. Each time, we were rea
ching our objectives and pushing the Taliban further up the Sangin Valley. Although we had not taken any casualties, that was all about to change.
We returned to Camp Bastion and after a few days were told to pack our kit for a three-day operation. This time we were to patrol and clear a village called Tsawmishi, which was known to have a large number of Taliban, so we knew from the start that we could be in for a really hard fight. Tsawmishi lies to the south of a sharp bend in the river Helmand which forms an inverted ‘V’ with its apex facing north. To the north of the river, spanned by an old bridge, is a village called Hyderabad.
The following day found us on the high ground looking over Tsawmishi with the bridge as our objective. Entering from the east, 5 Platoon was to lead and push towards the compounds on the right-hand side where it would halt and go firm. 7 Platoon would then push through before 5 Platoon and cross the open ground into the left-hand side of the western area and push north through the compounds towards the bridge. The compounds ran parallel to the river, eventually joining up at the bridge; at the largest point there was a large, wide expanse of land about a kilometre wide. A well populated area, it also contained some treelines and vegetation although not as dense as those we had encountered previously.
The first platoon to reach the bridge was to capture it and hold it, while the other headed back towards the south to provide protection for the elders of the community. This was commonly known as a ‘shura’, a council of elders who controlled the whole area. In the Afghan culture, people are very respectful of their elders and part of our mission was not only to protect them, but also listen to them and explain the reasons for our presence. We had to win the hearts and minds of the locals while also hopefully gaining valuable information about the enemy.
5 Platoon, accompanied by Deano and Scotty, set off with us following along with 7 Platoon, the approach route taking us through poppy fields and drainage ditches. As soon as 5 Platoon reached the first of the compounds, it came under fire. We listened to the radio net as we ran forward 600 or 700 metres through fields and around corners of buildings. The enemy were bringing heavy fire to bear from automatic weapons and RPGs, and it was clear to us that we needed to move forward so that if the platoons mounted an attack we could move to a flank and provide effective supporting fire.
5 Platoon was returning fire and holding the compounds as 7 Platoon ran forward through some patchy wooded areas. Teddy and I were just behind the lead section and by the time we caught up with 5 Platoon the shooting had died down. By that stage, the platoon commander had decided to close in on the enemy who appeared to be withdrawing to the north. In the meantime, 7 Platoon regrouped in a wadi.
We then began to come under enemy mortar fire. There was that dreaded whistling sound as the bombs fell. It gets louder and louder until there is about a half-second pause before the bombs explodes and you see the grains of sand in front of you shudder and jump off the ground while the shock wave swamps you, shaking you until your teeth rattle. We all got down as low as possible to protect ourselves from shrapnel and pieces of flying rock.
One of the bombs exploded about 100 metres to my right and this was followed immediately by shouts of, ‘Man down! Man down!’ We all spread out as the mortar fire got closer and closer. The medic, we called him Macca, sprinted past us towards the injured man, Corporal Martin, who had a really deep laceration in his arm caused by shrapnel. At this point an American aircraft swooped in out of nowhere and fired on the enemy position, followed by another that dropped a 1,000 pound JDAM bomb on the main enemy-held compound.
The enemy mortar fire ceased and 5 Platoon now moved forward, covered by 7 Platoon. Our FSG hammered the left-hand side of the compound near the ridge as 5 Platoon moved across the open ground towards the enemy positions, doubling across the open. Teddy and I meanwhile clambered up on to a roof and began to observe the compounds. Deano and Scotty were in with 5 Platoon and gave sniper cover for their guys as we continued moving north. We encountered small pockets of enemy resistance, but they were largely not interested in holding their ground. Instead it appeared they were retreating back towards the bridge, which they held in strength, clearly intending to make a proper stand there.
We had now been involved in this contact for a few hours and the engineers were blowing mouseholes in the walls of the compounds so we could enter. There are three codes when entering a building. Red is to throw grenades in first and then enter firing whether you see enemy or not; Amber is to go in with just your weapon and without grenades; and green is to enter without either. On this occasion, we initially were going in red each time, throwing grenades and laying down fire. As the battle continued, we dropped or raised the code depending on the threat as we saw it, because if we continued through on code Red throughout we would be in danger of running out of ammunition pretty quickly. Furthermore, if we knew there were civilians in a building we had no choice but to go in Green.
As we pushed through I thought that this was why I joined up: infantry skills being put into practice textbook fashion. Teddy and I were close to Corporal Parker as we went forward, jumping up on to the roofs to get eyes on as we went, each time checking the next compound in front for enemy, and engaging them with fire whenever we spotted them. The guys on the ground knew we were there giving them cover, which always gave them a boost, especially as they moved across open ground. The tactic was for the snipers to position themselves on the roofs, clear the way in front and give cover as the assaulting sections were blowing holes in walls, entering and clearing the buildings. As soon as they were clear, Teddy and I would jump down and head for the roof of a cleared building where we would then repeat the process. This was intense and knackering stuff, bearing in mind we were doing it in 40 degree heat with full body armour and equipment. I guess it was training and pure adrenaline that kept us moving at such a pace. I had started with four litres of water on me but by this time had already consumed half of that.
As we reached a point just short of the bridge, everything went very quiet and our advance slowed. 7 Platoon was now only about 200 metres from the bridge and halted in a graveyard. We could hear all the commanders talking over the radio net while they decided on the next move; as I had the radio I briefed Teddy on the situation. Shortly afterwards, 7 Platoon was ordered to advance to the bridge with 5 Platoon giving fire support from its position about 300 to 400 metres away.
We stood on a dusty track, with a treeline running from left to right in front of us with a small gap where track ran through. There were recently harvested poppies, so the crops were not too tall. We pushed through the tree line until we reached what I realised was a drainage ditch with a sort of mound of dirt to the left of us. As we went through I noticed that Private Thrumble had his oil bottle for his GPMG strapped to his helmet. I turned and said to Teddy, ‘Looks like a Vietnam war film this.’ He grinned and said, ‘Yeah, it does.’ As he spoke, we heard the whoosh of a RPG flying in towards us. It had been launched from the northern side of the bridge and passed between the last two guys from the section in front of us before detonating on the other side of the drainage ditch.
We threw ourselves down into the ditch as dust and debris flew all over the place and I heard the cracking of automatic fire as the Taliban opened up. Thankfully, the ditch was deep because the Taliban were firing like crazy, bullets literally whizzing and cracking all over the place and ricocheting off the ground in front of me. I just hugged the floor, flattening myself as close as I could to the ground. At that point, we could see two of our guys across from us lying motionless out in the open. Despite what was happening around us Teddy, who was an RMA 3 medic, leapt up shouting, ‘They’re hit! They’re hit!’ and started running full pelt towards them with bullets whistling around him and hitting the ground around his feet. I was shouting at him to keep low and stay down as I followed him, firing into the treeline on the other side.
I got down next to him when we reached the first guy, Gilly, who was lying there unconscious. As Te
ddy started to shake him, his eyes slowly flickered open as he regained consciousness. He began screaming and clutching at his knee, so we grabbed him and dragged him along with ourselves into the drainage ditch. He slid all the way down into the water, which was waist deep and, because the air temperature was so hot, absolutely freezing. He was still screaming in pain and clutching his knee, so we pulled his leg up to take a look and noticed a tear in his trousers and saw the blood. Teddy ripped the trouser leg open and saw a piece of shrapnel lodged just behind Gilly’s kneecap. We asked if he could put any weight at all on it, but he was unable to do so.
In the meantime, the battle continued to rage around us. The noise was deafening, and foliage and twigs from the dense trees rained down on us. RPGs were literally criss-crossing over the top of our heads as we stood waist-deep in the water. I watched as two criss-crossed each other and smashed in to the ground on the other side of the ditch close to me. Lance Corporal Stevie Veal, who was second-in-command of Corporal Parker’s section, came splashing along accounting for his men and saw that the other guy who had been knocked out had recovered consciousness. This left us with just Gilly and his shrapnel wound. In the army we have codes signifying a particular type of injury: a T1 casualty denotes someone totally unconscious but needing urgent hospital attention; T2 is anyone who cannot walk; T3 is walking wounded; and T4 is killed in action. So we told Stevie that we had a T2 casualty and he said he would take him back. The platoon commander, Lieutenant Seal-Coon, appeared and reported the situation on his radio as Stevie hoisted Gilly up on his shoulders and started walking back. He looked at me and said, ‘JC, take over my fire team.’ I replied, ‘No worries’ while Teddy said that he would then go forward with Corporal Parker to help him out.
Sniper in Helmand: Six Months on the Frontline Page 7