Sniper in Helmand: Six Months on the Frontline

by James Cartwright

  After four hours of fighting, I only had around two litres of water left out of the six with which I had started the day. We found a well in the back of one of the compounds we had taken and started to refill our water bottles, putting puritabs in them. Teddy and I, and a couple of others, started talking to Ross Kemp and his crew, who asked us about Deano and what had happened. Teddy explained that he was our section commander and told them about his casevacing Deano under fire. They sat speechless and just said, ‘Bloody hell! Well done!’

  We crossed a field of crops, heading for another road. As we approached it, we could hear another contact start up far to the rear of us but it was quite a way back and no danger at all because, although we could hear the firing, there were none of the cracks and whistles you hear when you are involved in a fire fight. We turned around to look back and watched as Ross Kemp and all of his guys were sprinting up to us at full pelt with their heads down, and could not help smiling. We told them, ‘You can get down here, lads’, and they dived behind a small wall and immediately took up the foetal position as Teddy and I stood up and looked back.

  At that point, we got a call over the radio and heard that Corporal Martin’s section had been put into a group of compounds that had been shot up pretty badly and were as good as rubble now. The enemy were now being met by the ANA and at the same time 5 Platoon were starting to engage the Taliban that we were now chasing out of the area. I said to Teddy, ‘You’re a lance corporal, I’m a lance corporal – what do you want to do? Go and try to cut these boys off from the ANA or do you want to catch up with 5 Platoon and try to give them cover?’ Teddy’s first instinct was to go and do the guys up in our area with the ANA and I agreed. I got on the radio and told Major Aston of our plan and gave a grid reference of where we were going to be. He responded, saying no dramas and happy hunting, so we found ourselves negotiating the rubble of shattered compounds to find ourselves a position. We were joined by Private Medlock who had a GPMG and found himself up on the same bit of ledge as Teddy, below which I positioned myself.

  After about five or ten minutes, Teddy started firing and then Medlock joined in with the GPMG. Teddy shouted down that they had around fifteen Taliban out in the open, fleeing from the ANA, and said they were about 300 metres away moving west to east. I extracted my map and GPS and plotted a six-figure grid reference of where they were and then used the radio to report our contact and the location. As they fled, the Taliban must have thought they were safe after breaking contact with the ANA, so suddenly to come up against a GPMG and a sniper was not great news for them. Teddy got three kills in the end and Medlock scored two, so we killed a third of their number.

  Corporal Martin had obviously heard what was going on, so I briefed him fully on the situation. Teddy came down to join us and mentioned that Medlock had done well, earning him some well-deserved praise from Corporal Martin. His grin was visible from England, so it was good for morale. Teddy then reloaded his magazines before we pushed on up to find ourselves behind Major Aston, Ross Kemp and his crew whom we accompanied through some more compounds where we halted and the decision was made to wait and regroup. While we waited, we found ourselves in a little room with Ross Kemp and his guys, along with some mortar men, and it was here that I had a good chat with him. We stayed there for a good half an hour or more, being resupplied with ammunition and a few more bottles of water each. The water was particularly welcome because we had been in contact for some six or seven hours and I had almost run out. Thereafter, we prepared to join Corporal Parker’s section once more as we went forward.

  We moved off and in our minds it soon became a bit like a Vietnam War movie again as we snaked through fields and crops. I turned a corner and froze as I found myself facing a Taliban bunker some seven or eight metres away. Fortunately, it was unoccupied as otherwise I would not have stood a chance. After that we uncovered a network of bunkers whose positions we logged for the engineers who were following us, so that they could demolish them.

  We pushed on and eventually came across a place where we found a heavy blood trail on the ground together with a large number of AK-47 spent casings. I bent down to feel one of them and found it was still warm. This indicated that we were close behind some enemy who were retreating with dead or wounded, so we increased our pace to try and catch up with them. In the distance, we could hear A Company having a battle royal with the Taliban who were trying everything to break through but without success, leaving them trapped between our two companies.

  By this time, we were all now shattered after fighting for so many hours. My back was absolutely killing me under the massive weight of the kit I was carrying, and I was suffering from really very bad prickly heat all over it. I took my day sack off and grabbed the bottom of my shirt and squeezed it, literally wringing the sweat out of it. My back felt like it was almost scaly so I asked Teddy to take a look to see if I had what felt like a huge, painful scab across my back – there wasn’t but he confirmed that it was incredibly red. All of us were feeling the strain, including Private Medlock who earlier had done so well but was starting to get really faint too. After all, by this time we had been on the go for some ten hours in intense heat, carrying massive loads.

  The sun was now going down and it was about time to move out, so we cut right and got back down into a drainage ditch heading back to the 611 road, doubling back on ourselves and heading for the compounds we had occupied previously where Teddy had killed the RPG gunner. We were moving fast, which was agony for me but I just had to grin and bear it. Last light came, so we had to stop and don our night viewing kit. Shortly afterwards, we came upon an elderly Afghan locking up his building and but it transpired he had come to collect his Quran and a few other items, so we sent him on his way.

  We continued patrolling back; by now we had been on the ground for something like thirteen or fourteen hours. Before we reached the compound where we were to stay for the night, we had to clear them again, but this time on a totally green code because, although we needed to do this as a precaution, we also did not want to let the Taliban know exactly where we were by firing needlessly.

  We reached the compound where Lieutenant Seal-Coon told us that a stag system to protect us all had already been set up and so we did not need to stag on, but he wanted us to sleep on the roof just in case anything kicked off. We would be there with night vision gear to help in seconds up there. By this time the temperature had dropped down to something like fifteen to twenty degrees, which to us felt bloody freezing; with no cloud cover and a wind, we were shivering like crazy.

  We were freezing, with no cloud cover and wind coming in too. It took only a few minutes before we both realised that the only situation was to huddle in the spoons position. We both groaned and thought, ‘Piss off, I’d rather be cold.’ But as the wind continued to whip across, we both just thought, ‘Bugger it!’ Uncomfortable as it was for our male pride, it was better than freezing to death – just. To be fair, it didn’t really work because when I was asleep Teddy would be shivering and wake me up, and then it would be vice-versa. Eventually, I had enough and, picking up my rifle, headed downstairs. At least I could have a cigarette there which would have been impossible on the roof because it would have been like a neon light flashing to the Taliban saying ‘British Troops here.’ I looked in all of the rooms, which were full of snoring soldiers, for something to keep us warm and finally found an old blanket. It was full of crap and stank of horse shit, but I thought it would at least give us the warmth to enable us to get some shut-eye. Teddy and I lay there slightly warmer, but could feel the fleas and whatever else that seemed to be crawling around the blanket on us. In the end, we just grit our teeth, closed our eyes and went to sleep, totally knackered, on a roof in Afghanistan. Happy days!

  Later, when being debriefed, we learned that all the Taliban bunkers that we came across were destroyed. There were more, packed full of ammunition and RPGs, but by pure luck we had entered Jusyalay about 600 metres to the south of these p
ositions, literally a stone’s throw away from carnage. If we had continued with the original plan, we would have come out on top of these bunkers and would have suffered heavy casualties. These positions were well sited, a perfect killing ground for the Taliban.

  CHAPTER 12

  Aftermath

  Thankfully, not a great deal happened that night and we rose early. I had rolled away from the blanket and, although the sun was bright when it rose, it was still cold. At least my clothes were now dry, but because of the sheer amount of sweating done the previous day, the back of my shirt was like cardboard and had a white chalky residue all around the edges from where the salt that had crystallised from the sweat. Although I didn’t realise it at the time, this would compound the problems with my back, which was still hurting quite a bit, when more sweat would mix in with the salt and grime from the previous day and rub into my already raw skin making it total agony as I donned my day sack, weapons and kit. I had now been wearing this one set of clothes for around two or three weeks, albeit I had managed to borrow a few pairs of socks.

  I came off the roof to go downstairs and have a cigarette, so as not give away our position. It was around 4.00 am in the morning and I sat on the steps leading from the roof into the main building. A few of the guys were beginning to wake up too and someone said that it was ‘stand to’ in half an hour – we would man our positions wearing all of our kit and be ready to repel any attack. I went back to the roof after I finished my fag and shook Teddy awake, letting him know that ‘stand to’ was soon. We made sure our kit was ready, put on our body armour and I checked that the fresh battery was fitted to my radio.

  Following ‘stand down’, we found out that we were to be working with 5 Platoon alongside Sergeant Caneper. Yesterday we had pushed on down the route between the 611 road and the Helmand River and found all of the enemy bunkers that had since been blown up by the engineers. Today we were going back to check that the Taliban were not trying to re-infiltrate the area. If necessary, we would take the fight to them again; no one had really done this previously or stayed for long periods of time in the Green Zone. If the Taliban did want to stick around they would have to throw us out, which was not going to happen.

  We moved through a field, halting by a bridge that ran over quite a wide canal with substantial tree cover over the top. Teddy recognised the spot and kept looking around before finally saying, ‘Over here JC.’ I went over and saw a puddle of congealed blood, but no body. The Taliban never leave any of their fallen behind, but we grinned anyway. This may seem callous but, if you consider what warfare is really like, take into account our friends being blown up or shot and remember the Taliban were trying to kill us, perhaps our feelings were understandable.

  We moved forward again; even though the sun had only been up for a few hours, it was hot with the temperature in the 30s. As we patrolled forward, we came across an old school and then a mosque where the Taliban had hidden the day before. We couldn’t gain access to it, to check it for weapons because it was padlocked, and we were not permitted to touch it as it was a religious building. The previous day it had been full of fully armed Taliban shooting at us but, although we could have flattened it with our air and mortar assets, we could not do so. We looked around the area, but there was nothing to be seen with no one around at all to talk to. It was quite a dense Green Zone area with trees overhanging thickly and little houses or assorted buildings set about the place in amongst the trees, irrigation ditches and fields.

  We continued patrolling, moving for around five or six hours which really took its toll. Patrolling in that kind of heat was both physically and mentally exhausting, especially in that type of dense close country. We were having to concentrate so hard on what was going on around us and be totally aware of our own guys, as we could have come under attack at anytime at all. We needed to check all of the variables including a constant assessment of the ground around us, in order to be able to instinctively take cover towards the most appropriate place if we came under fire. We also had to be vigilant as we passed people, buildings, dense treelines and so on, all of which were potential threats. If I saw a stick poking up out of the ground, I would be asking myself if it might be a marker for the Taliban and if we were about to walk into an ambush. We were aware that the Russians had left large numbers of mines behind and the Taliban had dug many of them up, sometimes stacking them two or three on top of each other and rigging them so they would detonate under the weight of one man. These were not anti-personnel personnel but anti-tank mines, and we had not been issued with mine detectors because they still had not arrived in theatre at this point, so the need to be aware of even slightly disturbed earth was crucial.

  Around midday, we came to an area that contained a few buildings sited pretty close together. We halted in these for a while as the temperature was now hitting 45 degrees, it now being the beginning of June in Afghanistan. We needed to let the worst of the heat die down but, at the same time, could not just take the kit off our backs and have a kip. We had to stay alert against any potential attack as we were so deep in the Green Zone that there was no vehicle support. While the guys got up on the roofs, Teddy and I went and filled up our water bottles from the well. We were always issued with tablets in our ration tablets to purify water. Having filled our bottles, we would drop the tablets into them and shake them up pretty well. This saved us having to boil water and then wait for it to cool down, which took forever. Apart from the water tasting a bit like chlorine, it was at least cold which was welcome in the heat. We all cleaned ourselves up a bit and washed the sand and grit out of our hair and off our faces before making our way back to our respective compounds.

  We all had our own little rooms in the compound and Teddy and I were bunked in with Sergeant Chris Caneper. We got our heads down for a little while as there were sentries on the roofs. We also took some food on board. I had my favourite boil-in-the-bag: chicken and mushroom with carbonara sauce. I had been carrying it in the uppermost compartment of my day sack, closest to the sun, in an attempt to warm it through, because we were unable to cook where we were. The result was a sort of lukewarm goo, which was pretty disgusting and nothing like the veal steak and mushrooms I had acquired from the Canadians. But at least it was food and I badly needed some to keep going.

  After a while we pushed on, positioning ourselves up on roofs and patrolling but nothing happened. The area was totally deserted, with no sign of any movement. We eventually arrived at the compound we had occupied the day before, which also had a well where everyone filled their water bottles while also taking the opportunity to consume as much liquid as possible. Colour Sergeant Bill Shand had done what we call a NAAFI run and had squared us away with a large quantity of provisions, including cigarettes, cans of coke and Haribo sweets. He had it delivered by Chinook helicopter, having managed to sweet talk one of the RAF loadmasters into putting it on with a load of ammunition and other supplies. This was hugely appreciated because we knew that getting this stuff out in the Green Zone was a luxury and not a necessity.

  We had been on the go for another full day in this heat with only three or four hours sleep. Sergeant Caneper stood there with this load in front of him, as everyone swarmed around the bounty, eyeing up the Haribo and coke. In the end he just said, ‘Will you all just f... off and let me sort this out.’ Quite funny but understandable that, after days of drinking chlorine flavoured water and running around in stinking clothes, tempers were becoming short.

  One of the medics also came around asking if we were all okay. One of the guys that had just joined us and was brand new was saying, ‘My feet are just killing me.’ We all just said, ‘Come on, son, get a grip.’ He really insisted he had a problem and so the medic took a look, along with the rest of us. We pulled his boots off and found his feet had gone totally white. He had been wearing nylon socks instead of the issued cotton ones we all wore, so while we would be losing a pint of sweat through our feet every three or four hours, he had been losing unbel
ievable amounts. The result was a very bad case of ‘trench foot.’ The phrase, ‘trench foot’ originated in the First World War, during which where soldiers’ feet would constantly be underwater and soaking wet for so long that they would eventually start to rot. This is incredibly painful as the skin starts to break off in lumps. I know how painful it is, as I had once suffered from trench foot when I was a new guy back in the UK.

  This guy must have kept quiet for days because the state of his feet was really shocking. The medic was trying to be sympathetic but began bollocking him for not raising the problem earlier. The section commander had to step in and tell the medic to back off because the guy was new. He then went through the guy’s kit, finding more nylon socks and telling him if he ever caught him wearing them again he would be put on a charge. Fortunately, he also had the issued socks that we all wore, so the medic delved into his pack and pulled out a big tub of foot powder, which is very potent stuff. He smothered the guy’s feet in it as well as pouring it into his new issue socks so that when he woke up and put his boots on, he would get a full day’s coating. We then carried the guy over to a building where he was told to keep off his feet for the rest of the night, although if the shit hit the fan and we had to move out quickly he would have to grin and bear it and put on his boots like the rest of us. He was a new guy and inexperienced and obviously thought he was doing himself a favour wearing sporty style clothing. As he learnt quite quickly and the hard way, there are good reasons why what we do most of the time in the Army is tried and tested and bloody well works.