Attack State Red

by Richard Kemp

  He pointed again at the bird-table image of the compound. ‘That is Objective A. There is what seems to be a bunker of some sort next to it – here. Thirty-five metres away. People seem to move frequently between Objective A and that bunker. The two are therefore presumably linked in some way. Perhaps the bunker is a storage location. That bunker is Objective B.’

  Biddick said. ‘We’ll deal with all questions at the end. Thank you, Tom, that was very clear.’

  Coleman squeezed back a bit to allow more space for the company commander.

  ‘Gentlemen, I think we’re all pretty clear on the Taliban tactics that led to the death of Daz Bonner and the other casualties the battle group has sustained in minestrikes.’

  At the mention of Bonner, everyone sat up, even more interested. Bonner had been killed in the back of Biddick’s Viking when it ran over a mine six weeks earlier. He had been one of the best-known and most popular figures in the regiment.

  Biddick continued, ‘And on top of that, as we all know there have been huge numbers of IED attacks on the ANA and the civilian community in and around Sangin itself. That is why this operation is so important. We must do everything we can to disrupt these attacks – and save lives. And as you have just heard, for once we have some very precise intelligence to enable us to do just that. The mission is to strike, cordon and search the suspected Taliban compound at Aghlegh in order to disrupt Taliban operations and increase security in Sangin district. My intent is to conduct a detailed search of the objective, once secured and cordoned, employing aviation assets to achieve tactical surprise and deploy fighting troops rapidly and simultaneously to deny enemy escape. Concurrent to the search, local nationals will be engaged and reassured. Any additional intelligence gained will be exploited immediately.

  ‘This action will disrupt and deter Taliban IED and mine operations in Sangin district and demonstrate UK Forces’ ability to achieve a precision strike at a time and place of our choosing – thereby increasing the security of friendly forces’ operations.’

  ‘Finally, I do not want to alienate the community in Aghlegh any more than we have to. Preferably not at all. It is imperative we explain to the locals what we are doing and why, and also that we compensate the innocent members of the community for any harm or damage done. You all know the importance I attach to winning and keeping hold of hearts and minds.’

  Biddick surveyed his audience, as though looking to see that his message was clearly understood.

  ‘Concept of ops. We will fly in by Chinook, landing on the western edge of the village. 2 Platoon, you are strike platoon. OK, Graham?’

  He looked at Lieutenant Goodey. ‘You will simultaneously enter and secure Objective A and Objective B, as described by the IO. Main effort is Objective A. When you have secured the two objectives, you will call forward the Royal Engineers Search Adviser and his Search Team who will do a detailed search first of Objective A then B.’

  ‘Insertion and extraction will be by three Chinook. Because of available air windows we will be on the ground for exactly four hours.’

  Thirty minutes later the O Group broke up, the commanders thankfully piling out into what was still the unbearable heat of the early afternoon but at least there was a bit of air. Within a few minutes the whole base was alive with activity as the company began its detailed preparations to translate Biddick’s concept of operations into reality on the ground in Aghlegh.

  4

  The following morning, in the dark, Corporal Ryan Alexander of 2 Platoon led his section out of the accommodation on to their pre-designated position beside the HLS. They lined up in their embarkation stick then sat silently, ready to go. Alexander had a feeling of expectation and excitement. This was an important mission. He and his men knew that if they succeeded they could be saving their mates’ and their own lives, stopping the deadly anti-tank mines that could kill any of them any time they crossed the desert and setting back the Taliban’s terrorist campaign against the local population.

  Alexander couldn’t help thinking about Darren Bonner. This operation was to some extent about him. The people they were flying across the desert to capture or kill could just possibly be the very men responsible for his death. Even if they didn’t succeed in getting them, they would hopefully seriously disrupt the network. He had never before in his life been more determined to do anything properly.

  Biddick, the IO, the three platoon commanders and the JTAC were in the ops room, next to the HLS, waiting for updated intelligence from the British surveillance assets. This was a tense time. Outwardly, Biddick was calm, but prior to a complex operation a thousand thoughts go through every commander’s mind. An air assault had so many moving parts that could go wrong, even without interferace from the enemy. Waiting was always the worst part.

  Half an hour later, Goodey sent a runner from the ops room to brief 2 Platoon that intelligence reports indicated people entering the compound, Objective A. Three males, wearing green kurtas and dark turbans. Excellent, thought Alexander, coming together. Almost too good to be true.

  As the word was passed round the men, he heard excited murmurings from the dark shapes behind him. The men all felt the same. They were about to seize the initiative. And they were all thinking of Bonner.

  A few minutes later the soldiers’ elation slumped a little when Goodey came across from the ops room and spoke to them. As every soldier does automatically in the dark, he spoke in hushed tones, though there was no need to. ‘Lads, there is a problem with the Chinooks. Not sure what has gone wrong. They’re still coming but they’re going to be delayed.’

  ‘Shock,’ said someone at the back of the line.

  Gradually the sun came up, deep red, and the heat began to build as the troops sat in the open beside the HLS. Messages came out of the ops room that the helicopters were on their way. Then that they weren’t. No one seemed to know what was happening or why.

  Alexander knew that, in the ops room, Biddick would be sitting calmly and coolly, but that inside he would be getting increasingly annoyed.

  ‘They get EastEnders on BFBS at this time of the morning back in Bastion,’ said Private Luke Chumbley, a young Essex lad who was Alexander’s Minimi gunner. ‘The crabs wouldn’t want to fly out here before that’s finished. Even if they thought Ross Kemp was out here instead of on the TV.’

  Private Mark Stevens, Alexander’s GPMG gunner, said, ‘Yeah, and maybe the chef didn’t get up in time to do their breakfasts. The crabs can’t leave in the morning without a full fry, it’s against their regulations. I expect it’s breakfast in bed this morning. Actually, thinking about it, I’m surprised you didn’t join the RAF for the breakfasts, Chumber Wumber.’

  With as little effort as possible Chumbley booted him in the back in token retaliation.

  ‘If the Yanks were flying us we’d be well on the ground by now,’ piped up Private Anthony Glover, the section’s point man, jumping to his feet, suddenly animated. ‘If they think there’s the chance of a fight they’re all over it. Sarge, can’t we ring up the US Air Force and see if they want to play? Isn’t Teddy Ruecker’s dad in the Yank Air Force? Why don’t we get hold of him and ask his old man to call in a favour?’

  ‘All right, sit down, Glovebox,’ said Alexander, ‘you lot all take a chill pill, there’s nothing we can do about it, we just have to wait for the crabs to get here. Take some of your kit off and cool down a bit. Illsley, Whaitesy, nip over to the ops room and bring some water here so we can have a drink.’

  A few minutes later they were at it again. You can never stop the troops moaning and ragging each other. The old saying that soldiers are never happy unless they’re complaining is absolutely true, and in situations like this it helped pass the time. ‘The Taliban will be gone by the time we get there. We were supposed to take off an hour and a half ago,’ said Chumbley.

  ‘They’ll still be there,’ said Stevens, ‘and Chumber, if we do ever get there, no shooting at birds, got it? I know you’re the section anti-aircr
aft gunner, but remember, these guys are inside the compounds, not flying around the trees.’

  Chumbley, who in one contact on Operation Ghartse Ghar had kept firing high, had never been allowed to forget it by the rest of the section, especially by Stevens, one of the platoon characters and a tough and determined soldier. Chumbley now leapt on top of him.

  Two hours later than planned, for reasons they never learnt, the increasingly irritated men of A Company finally began to hear the all-pervading thudding as the three Chinooks approached Sangin.

  5

  Minutes later they were filing up the tail ramps. There were only three helicopters to transport the 120 men of A Company Group, swollen beyond their normal strength by the ANA platoon and engineer search team. The red plastic webbing and silver tubular metal bench seats running down either side were folded up, and the men crammed in sardine-like, standing as if it was rush hour on the London Underground.

  The Chinooks flew in towards the western outskirts of Aghlegh very fast and very low. The men were grinning at each other, some were slapping each other on the back. They were going in. To what? Anything could happen on the ground. The Taliban could be waiting for them, an ambush. They all knew an American Chinook had been shot down in the Green Zone during Op Lastay Kulang at the end of May. Or maybe it would all go to plan? Maybe…

  The Chinook dropped like a stone and crunched on to the dirt. It was the hardest landing Alexander had ever experienced, and if the men hadn’t been packed in so tight and holding on to the sides and to each other, it would have knocked them off their feet.

  The ramp was already down, and the second the wheels hit the ground Goodey, followed closely by Alexander, led the men off the back of the chopper, running blind through thick clouds of brown dust, kicked up by the Chinooks that had landed next to each other. The noise of the three sets of powerful engines was intense and deafening. Alexander was running as fast as he could. He was desperate to get into clear air to see where things were. They had trained for this, and during their rehearsals they learnt the direction from the back of the Chinook to the target compound. But now they had no idea. They had been told the Chinooks were going to land in a different position, probably facing a different direction to the plan. Alexander also ran fast to lead his men away as quickly as possible away from the bullet magnet that was the helicopter.

  Alexander looked left. There was Objective A, their target. Easily identified by a 5.5-metre-tall chimney within the compound. Shouting, ‘Boss, over here, it’s over here, follow me,’ he wheeled left without looking to see if Goodey was following. The platoon were behind him. A young soldier, recently arrived, for some reason was running in the opposite direction. Without pausing, Alexander reached out and dragged him back on course.

  As he ran towards his target, Alexander looked around. Quite a sparse village, small compounds, well spread out, just as the photography showed. The whole place was deserted, no one in the streets.

  Alexander hit the compound. It was 25 by 15 metres. The walls were lower than normal, less than 2 metres tall. He looked over and quickly took in the layout. Open courtyard, no vegetation, no one inside that he could see. Three small shed-sized buildings on the left. Inside the wall nearest him, the chimney. The whole place looked more like some kind of industrial set-up than a dwelling. Probably a brick kiln.

  The plan had been to go in red, kick the door in or blast through the wall and then grenade the compound. There was no need to bar-mine their way in. There were no doors on the compound, and the low wall was broken down in places. They could see into the courtyard, and no one was there, so there was no point grenading. It would only slow them down. Speed was critical if anyone was in the rooms within the compound. ‘We’re going in green,’ he shouted. ‘Go in green. Green.’

  Without orders, Chumbley and Okoti had taken up positions outside the compound, covering over the walls with their Minimis.

  Glover and Smith, Assault Team 1, charged through the doorway and into the compound. They moved straight to the chimney and checked inside the large brick-built kiln at its base. ‘Clear, clear,’ shouted Glover.

  Alexander was in next, then Assault Team 2, Waites and Illsley. They cleared the first two buildings, weapons in shoulders, ready to shoot. ‘Rooms clear, no one inside,’ yelled Illsley.

  The two engineers, also acting as an assault team, raced in and cleared the last building. ‘Room clear.’

  Finally the two Minimi gunners moved into position inside the compound, covering the whole area around it. Less than three minutes after landing Objective A was secured. But empty of Taliban bombers.

  Alexander moved from person to person, issuing and confirming their arcs of fire. Whaites, on the eastern side of the compound, called out, ‘Alex, Alex, there’s a bloke over here acting suspicious.’

  ‘Grab him, search him. I’ll get a terp.’

  6

  The RESA and his search team, or REST, were waiting on the outskirts of the village to be notified the compound was clear. Alexander couldn’t call them. He and his men had all switched off their radios before entering the compound. They had been instructed to do so during the O Group, as radio emissions could potentially trigger a remote-controlled IED.

  Alexander sent his 2IC, South African Lance Corporal Werner van der Merwe, to get the search team in. Meanwhile he took the interpreter together with the Afghan that Whaites had got hold of to the RSM for questioning.

  A few minutes later the RSM told Goodey that the man had informed him that Taliban had been in the Objective A compound and the same people had also used a different compound, which he had identified. Goodey sent Corporal Sawasdee’s section to clear and search it.

  Led forward by van der Merwe, the RESA and his eight-man search team filed into the compound carrying their specialist equipment. Some of the engineers commenced searching the three small buildings and the kiln.

  Meanwhile two engineers were systematically combing through the outside part of the compound. ‘Can you shift a bit, mate, so we can check under here,’ said one of them to Glover, who was in a fire position in the corner of the compound. Moments later the engineer told Glover he had been balancing on two anti-tank mines concealed in the undergrowth.

  ‘Alex,’ said Glover, calling Alexander over and pointing at the mines, ‘I’ve just been standing on them.’ His face was white. Alexander always used Glover as his point man. He was an excellent soldier, who had a lot of common sense and could read and react to the ground well. That was why Alexander identified him as point man during the pre-training in Kenya. But as the tour wore on Glover grew more and more to fear mines. Hardly surprising. Always out in front of the section, and often the platoon and the whole company, if anyone was going to trigger a mine or an IED it was the point man.

  A few minutes later the engineers found a 100cc motor bike with a mobile phone lying on the seat. Almost certainly the bike that had been photographed. And Alexander thought the phone just lying there was an indication that the bomb-makers had left in a hurry, probably minutes before his section crashed into the compound.

  Leaving the engineers to continue searching, Alexander led his section into the compound immediately south, from where he could provide better all-round protection to the search. Inside was a family. They were scared and compliant, and Alexander and his interpreter centralized them all in one room where they would be monitored more easily while the search proceeded.

  Goodey called Alexander on the radio, now switched back on. ‘Bronze Two One Charlie, this is Bronze Two Zero Alpha. Callsign Two Two Charlie has found some interesting stuff in the compound that bloke identified as associated with Objective A. Roger so far.’

  ‘Two One Charlie Roger.’

  ‘Roger. Two AK47s and two IED remote control systems. Pass on a well done to the soldier that picked the bloke up.’

  At that time an IED was being set off about every two or three days in Sangin, wounding and killing large numbers of civilians and Afghan sold
iers and police. They were all initiated by remote control. Alexander knew first hand the deadly effects of these IEDs. The first day A Company arrived in Sangin a bomb had killed three Afghan soldiers in the centre of the town. Alexander, Sergeant Butcher and another NCO had the grizzly task of picking up the bloody remains, legs and arms hanging off, and putting them into body bags.

  A few minutes later Goodey called again, this time letting Alexander know that the engineer search team had found several more anti-tank and anti-personnel mines at Objective A.

  Now the RSM came into the compound. ‘Corporal Alexander, I need you to question some prisoners. Hand your section over to your 2IC and come and deal with this lot that the ANA have rounded up.’

  Alexander was the only qualified interrogator in the company. He moved out of the compound with the RSM. There was a group of about thirty Afghan men, mostly in green kurtas. Alexander said, ‘Why were these men arrested?’

  ‘As far as I can make out it was just random,’ said the RSM. ‘The ANA picked up whoever they saw of fighting age. I think they concentrated mainly on the ones in green kurtas because of the int.’

  Alexander walked along the row, looking to see any sign of more than usual nervousness or stress. ‘It’s a pretty vague way of doing it,’ he said to the RSM, ‘but there’s nothing else to go on and we’ve got to have some kind of priority. I’d like to do them in groups of three, sir. Can we get them blindfolded and then get a guard to take one man into each of the three rooms in the compound? I’ll question them individually. But we haven’t got any leverage over them if they’ve been arrested at random. Unless they volunteer information or they trip up because they’re scared we probably won’t get anything out of them.’