Ed Macy - Hellfire

‘The Taliban commander is located at grid Papa-Romeo Four-Zero-One Eight-Six-Three. That’s Papa-Romeo Four-Zero-One Eight-Six-Three in Now Zad.’

The Ops Officer pointed to a satellite photograph – a house approximately twelve feet high, with ten-foot walls around the perimeter. The target was using it as a bomb-making factory. It was also a safe house for local fighters and an arms cache.

He and his associates were likely to have small arms and RPGs.

The 3 Para battlegroup was to fly into the Green Zone east of Now Zad, under the shadow of the mountain spine, between the town and the main wadi. It would use four Chinooks to land in three sites at exactly 1100 hours.

The first LS, codenamed Green One, was just to the north of the house. The second, Green Two, was one field to its south-west, and Green Three one field to the south. There were four alternative LSs further from the target in case it was too hot or unacceptable to the crews following a ‘boiling’ call.

‘Meanwhile,’ the Ops Officer said, ‘the troops in Now Zad DC will have moved out in their WMIKs to collect Haji Muhammadzai, the District Chief of Police.’

He’d only find out what was happening as the troops touched down on the LSs, so no warnings would be sent to the occupants by anyone. As they set up a cordon around the grounds, he’d be driven to the house by the troops from the DC, arriving before we went into the compound to confirm that the search and lift was done in a dignified manner with no harassment to any locals. Other troops from the 3 Para battlegroup would have secured the perimeter to ensure that no Taliban escaped and no reinforcements could infiltrate the target area.

The Patrols Platoon was going to move into and block the western side of the Green Zone. They had two JTACs, callsign Widow Seven Zero, qualified to bring in air support and with a secure radio giving direct communications to the jets.

The Ops Officer tapped a map with a long wooden pointer with an orange tip. ‘Ten Platoon of the Royal Gurkha Regiment positioned themselves in the DC yesterday and are going to secure the eastern perimeter. They are going to route north initially, under the normal watchful eye of the Apaches, to give any Taliban dickers the impression that this is a routine patrol.’

If they came under any trouble they’d get Widow Seven Three to command the air support onto the target. It was becoming pretty obvious that 3 Para’s offensive support would be from whatever fast air they had on standby while the Apaches took a back seat.

Nichol took over for the aircrew brief when 3 Para’s second in command (2i/c) had done his bit. The Chinooks would be supported by 3 Flight. Pat was flying with Tony in Wildman Five Two and Chris with Carl in Five Three.

I looked at the other three invisibles standing alongside me. I still found it hard to understand why we weren’t officially part of the briefing and there was no mention of Apache contingencies.

‘Deconfliction: the Apaches will operate below 5,000 feet over the target until their fuel has been used up. After the drop-off the Chinooks will hold not below 5,000 feet.’

‘Plan: on arrival the Apaches are to assess the target and LSs. If they think the LSs are hot – under imminent threat or under fire – they will give the codeword boiling to the Chinooks. If the LSs are cold – no threat and safe to land – they will give the codeword freezing.’

‘If the Apaches are in contact when the Chinooks arrive the Apache crews will give the codeword sausage followed by either One, Two, Three or Four, depending upon which sector they are engaging into. The Chinooks will then be able to adjust their flight profile and route, choosing the best sector to approach and depart without the fear of flying into the Apaches’ fire.’

‘Let’s go sausage side and give them what’s for!’ was the age-old Tommy refrain when doing battle with their wurst-loving German enemy.

‘Once the Chinooks have deposited 3 Para they will lift, egress the target area and hold above 5,000 feet for the guys to get in, find their man, search the place and call for their pick up. If the operation is taking longer than expected they will return to Bastion and wait on thirty minutes’ notice to move for a call to collect the troops.

‘If all goes to plan, the Apaches will cover the Chinooks in low level and then provide protection to us, finally returning to Bastion where they will wait with us on thirty minutes’ notice to move, ready to escort us back in.’

I couldn’t help smiling. Unlike us, the Chinook crowd could switch off their machines, go and have a drink in their air-conditioned tent, and still be off the ground within thirty minutes of the shout.

Apache crews wouldn’t get out of their aircraft. They’d be on the Auxiliary Power Unit, main engines off but with all systems running, ready to go. The APU hardly used any fuel, so time was on our side. I’d once sat in the bird for six hours without taking off, my arse as numb as a dead man’s.

It was swings and roundabouts, though. The Apache was air-conditioned and generally very comfortable to fly; the Chinook was boiling hot inside and filled with dust and sand.

Jon gave me a nudge as Nichol concluded with the extraction details. ‘It looks to me as if the Apaches are only trusted to escort Chinooks.’

I nodded. If it all went to ratshit it would be the Jet Jocks that would be mixing things up with the Taliban.

Our Intelligence Officer stepped up to the plate and briefed us on the specific threats to aircrew – which basically amounted to Stingers and an anti-aircraft gun that had been sighted in the area. ‘If the reports are true, it’ll be fitted to the back of a pick-up truck. This weapon system is a significant threat, especially if the operator is competent. Better have the radar ready to detect vehicles.’

Most of the operational detail had been thrashed out in our absence over the last couple of days, but I reckoned we’d now picked up enough to allow us to take over if all went tits-up.

At the end of the brief I brought up the million-dollar question: what was deemed ‘hot’ and ‘not’? Hostile fire would be obvious, but what if there were male adults – or of mixed ages – in the tree lines or the general area, with or without weapons?

We decided that there were four different levels of ‘hot’ – but knew that only Nichol could make the LS call.

We went and had a brew then corralled Dickie Bonn again.

We needed to know what would happen if one of the Apaches had a malfunction prior to arriving at Now Zad. Would the whole mission be postponed until its crew came back and changed aircraft? That would mean forty minutes in transit, twenty to swap aircraft and a further thirty to get it started – an hour and thirty minutes in total, assuming no snags. If the mission went ahead in the meantime, who would give the boys on the ground their Intimate Support? If we’d been read into the mission (fully briefed, prepared and ready to fly) we could be on the APU, waiting to go, a mere twenty minutes from being on station.

Worse still, what would happen if they got shot down and couldn’t return to the fight? Would they be sending out an unbriefed crew?

Dickie promised he’d have another word with the boss – when the boss had a minute to spare.

Nick was the squadron pin-up. He’d graduated from university, then Sandhurst, joined the Army Air Corps, and gone straight onto the pilot’s course. From there he’d been streamed directly onto Apache CTT1 and joined 656 Squadron. He was young, energetic, infuriatingly good-looking, and an enthusiastic and highly capable aviator.

He was to command our flight during this mission, despite being our least experienced pilot. It was the way the AAC worked. Jon – who had thousands of flying hours – would captain the aircraft from the back seat. While the commander was responsible for the success of the mission, the captain was responsible for the safe conduct of the sortie and the safety of the airframe and crew.