Ed Macy - Hellfire

Jon had been a tank commander before training on the Lynx. His ability to interpret a battlefield was second to none, making him the perfect person to show Nick the ropes – even if he hadn’t been in combat with the Apache before. He was also our SupFAC. Supervisory Forward Air Controllers trained and coached the squadron’s pilots in the art of controlling fast jets and guiding their bombs onto targets.

Their callsign was Wildman Five Zero, and they were currently part of the IRT. If there was an incident in our AOR – in this case Helmand province – a road traffic accident, mine strike, injured personnel or even a compassionate case that needed to return home to their family, the IRT would respond. A Chinook did the ferrying while the Apache provided support. If the location the Chinook was bound for was deemed hostile, the second Apache, the HRF cab, would also go.

Apaches in combat were always flown in pairs – or more – for mutual support. Billy and I were in Wildman Five One.

Billy was the most experienced Apache pilot in the squadron, with more than twice as many Apache hours as any other pilot when we turned up in Afghanistan. Originally from the Royal Corps of Transport, he’d been driving vehicles on the ground and in the air for the best part of twenty years. He was qualified to fly both seats, and did so with immense gusto. Today he was captaining from the rear while I’d command from the front.

But for the time being we just had to sit it out.

Billy turned to me and said, ‘Do you think we’ll get away without firing a shot?’

I shook my head. ‘When was the last time you saw a plan surviving contact with the enemy? Prior preparation and planning…’

‘…prevents a piss poor performance,’ Jonny kicked a stone across the ground in front of him. ‘The seven Ps. Let’s hope you’re wrong.’

With just over an hour to go the mission timings slipped by an hour; 3 Para would now land in Now Zad at midday. We still didn’t have access to the spot maps of the area, the callsigns, the positions of the troops on the ground or the Chinooks and the fast air above.

We begged to at least be on the APU.

The answer was still no – if we were needed, we’d be given everything we’d requested ‘in sufficient time’.

3 Flight walked to their Apaches at 1030 hours.

We’d run out of road. We were into crisis management at the slightest deviation from the plan.

SUNDAY, 4 JUNE 2006

Camp Bastion, Afghanistan

1030 hours local

10 Platoon D Company RGR leave Now Zad DC heading north towards Haji Muhammadzai’s residence in WMIK and Pinzgauer vehicles. There are thirty Brits and ten ANP in the convoy. After collection they are to continue to secure the eastern perimeter of the target by the wadi.

1115 hours

Patrols Platoon depart on their way to secure the western perimeter of the target to prevent the Taliban from reinforcing and to capture or kill any insurgents attempting to escape.

1120 hours

10 Platoon is contacted in a wadi just to the north of Now Zad, way short of Ali Za’I where they are supposed to inform Haji Muhammadzai of the planned cordon and search op. They are pinned down and can’t get back into their vehicles. The firefight becomes a furious battle in which they are fighting for their lives in true Gurkha fashion.

1130 hours

Patrols Platoon is in a fierce firefight in close country, totally unsuited to their vehicles. They too are trapped and fighting for their lives.

Two Apaches headed for Now Zad from Camp Bastion at 1130 hours on the dot, with no idea of what lay ahead. Exactly five minutes later, the Chinooks took off with the first elements of 3 Para on board.

The battle was being run from the 3 Para Ops tent – the JOC – so we could only listen to 3 Flight’s transmissions in our own Ops tent. And their scant sitreps gave us little sense of the full battle. Worse still, the CO 3 Para would be flying high above Now Zad, and the Chinooks’ insecure radios would only transmit when absolutely necessary for fear of compromise.

The mountains around Now Zad and the distance between us meant that even if we tuned into the ground troops’ frequency, we wouldn’t be able to hear a thing. The Apaches had good comms back because of their altitude.

We gathered round the radio operator to pick up whatever crumbs we could.

The air-conditioning pipe was on overdrive but the tent was roasting. It was like trying to chill a bucket of warm beer with an ice cube.

The first we heard back from them was that they had arrived on station. The place looked quiet. It wouldn’t take long to discover how wrong they were.

1155 hours

A Company’s 2 Platoon, the Engineer search teams and the A Company HQs led by Major Will Pike land in two Chinooks 100 metres to the north-east of the target on the intended LS and come under contact immediately. Their JTAC is Widow Seven Two.

A Company’s 1 Platoon land in their Chinook 350 metres west of their intended LS just east of the alternate LS, Green 6. They come under horrendous fire and have to fight through the Taliban’s defensive positions to stay alive. Once they get the situation under control they still have to make their way to the target compound, which entails climbing walls with ladders and trudging through swampy irrigation ditches under fire.

CO 3 Para remains airborne to direct the battle from above, protected by the two Apaches of 3 Flight.

1200 hours

3 Flight orientate and try to locate all the troops. It’s mayhem on the ground and the CO instructs them to assist his men in returning some semblance of order to his plan.

3 Flight are called by Widow Seven Zero to help Patrols Platoon break clean from the enemy. 3 Flight pour 30 mm into the warren of alleyways. Patrols Platoon are hugely grateful for the respite in enemy action and break clear after forty-five minutes of hell in what they’d thought was going to be a never-ending firefight.

1205 hours

‘Providing covering fire,’ Chris called.

It must have been madness on the Mission Net because he was speaking to Pat on the Apaches’ inter-aircraft frequency. They couldn’t follow transmissions from Bastion on this one, but for us to be able to hear them was a real bonus.

‘I can’t see into the compound they said the firing is coming from,’ Chris said. ‘I’m going to fire a witness burst into the next field.’

At that point we knew they had joined the fight.

We listened intently for any sign that we should be cranking up the next brace of aircraft. The boss was following the battle in the JOC next door. We tried to get in but it was already heaving. He told us to wait in our Ops room.

Everyone gathered in our tent to find out what was happening. After two and a half years of hard sweat the squadron was finally doing what it had trained to do. We’d been bashing our heads against a brick wall for the last few days, and were bursting to join the fight. The ground crews wanted to load up Apaches and welcome them back empty. The signallers wanted sitreps to pass onto command and the techs wanted to patch up bullet holes and send the gunships back into the ring.

The next voice we heard was Pat’s. He was picking off Taliban in the alleyways of Now Zad.

Jon and I exchanged a glance. I grabbed Dickie Bonn. He reached for the phone and spoke to the OC. ‘Suggest we stand to, sir.’

The OC instructed us to wait. ‘The battle’s being run from Now Zad and a stand-to hasn’t been requested,’ Dickie relayed.