Ed Macy - Hellfire

‘They’ve got right up to the compound and are trying to break in.’

We’d been expecting this. Ever since Op Mutay they’d been getting closer to the DC. They’d tunnelled their way through all the buildings to spring an attack on our doorstep.

‘Do you have exact locations?’

‘Negative. We don’t know where the Taliban are on the ground. All we know is the DC is getting hit hard.’

We gunned it low level across Highway Zero One and started climbing the instant we were over the desert.

Jake was straight onto the radio. ‘Widow Seven One, this is Wildman Five Zero.’

No reply.

‘Widow Seven One, Wildman Five Zero…’

Nothing. We were out of range. There was no point in us having a go now, but we would when we were closer, in case Jake’s radio was on the blink.

Jake ordered the patrol to keep climbing. If we could get line of sight we might get comms from further out.

About sixteen klicks from the town, we got eyes on Now Zad. At first glance, it was hard to see what Ops were on about. The town looked more peaceful than I’d ever seen it.

Jake tried again. ‘Widow Seven One, how do you read?’

‘Lima Charlie.’

‘Send update.’

‘We’re under heavy attack from all sides. The sangars are smashed and we can’t fire out. We think they’re trying to break into the compound from the south. We can’t get any men in the sangars. We need you to stop the attack on the south side. The Taliban are in the building ten metres south of the DC and close to breaking through.’

SUNDAY, 16 JULY 2006

Now Zad

The sky over Now Zad was cobalt blue, a stark contrast with my first view of it during my initiation six weeks ago. There wasn’t any smoke or sign of battle. The place looked like a ghost town.

‘Widow Seven One,’ Jake called, ‘this is Wildman Five Zero and Wildman Five One. We have 600 cannon, seventy-six rockets and four Hellfires. Five minutes to run to the overhead. Confirm all friendly forces are in the DC and the Shrine?’

‘A-firm affirmative; hurry up please .’

Shit . The short hairs rose on the back of my neck. It wasn’t protocol to use ‘please’ in fire control orders, even in the opening calls. Widow Seven One was a top JTAC; for him to say please, the situation must be desperate.

‘Wildman Five Zero,’ Jake said, ‘any civvies in the area?’

He got a nervous laugh. ‘You must be joking. They all moved out long ago.’ I could hear loud bangs in the background but none of the gunfire we were used to when the troops were in contact.

‘Copied,’ Jake replied.

The Shrine momentarily blocked my view. As we closed in I saw the bright white building beside the DC. It looked brand new.

‘Widow Seven One, this is Wildman Five Zero. Four minutes to run. Where are they attacking from?’ Jake asked.

‘Widow Seven One. We’re getting smashed to pieces from the north. They’ve tunnelled between the terraced houses and every house on our east is firing at us. Stand by for more…’

I could hear the distinctive cracks and snaps of bullets passing the JTAC and sporadic pops and bangs.

‘…and we think they’re trying to get through the southern wall,’ he continued, ‘but we can’t really tell because the sangars have been taken out.’

Bloody hell, he had no men on lookout. They must be under some horrendous fire.

‘Copied. Three minutes to run,’ Jake said. ‘I can see a white H-shaped building just to your south.’

‘Widow Seven One. A-firm. Hurry up. We’re having a grenade fight over the southern wall.’

The Harriers had been crashed at the same time as us. We were still supposed to hand over to them when they arrived. It was just as well they hadn’t. Harriers with their bombs and rockets can’t shoot anywhere near this close to our own troops; they would have been unable to help them.

Fuck, neither can we really…

My view of the white building was improving. It was orientated side-on to us and shaped like an ‘H’. Just behind it was the base. It looked like they were virtually joined together. I knew they weren’t, because I’d looked down there on a few occasions. There was a tight alleyway.

When the troops came out for a resupply run, they would turn right and then right again to go down the alleyway between the white building and the southern wall of the DC. This was going to be tight.

The Taliban had been changing their tactics ever since we kicked off on Op Mutay. Prior to 4 June they had engaged Apaches in the open and had little respect for them. They rushed around taking potshots at us and then laid their weapons down.

After we’d spanked their arses in Now Zad they’d do anything to attack when Apache cover wasn’t expected. Now they only fought hard from concealed cover. They were tailoring their attacks to our reaction times. Thirty minutes of fighting followed by a break then thirty minutes of fighting, on and on until the early hours. This war of attrition had gone on, day and night, for weeks. It was wearing the troops down.

The Taliban were so wary of us, they’d tunnelled through buildings to get as close to the DC as possible. They’d bluffed us earlier with a half-hearted attack to test Apache cover, and when we didn’t turn up they went for it.

We’d now arrived with the battle raging and we stood a chance of catching the scumbags with their pants down. My only worry was proximity. Too close and we’d either shoot and risk killing our own troops or hold fire and film their deaths instead. I needed a piss badly now.

I looked down at the screen by my knee. Simon’s TADS image gleamed in the midday sun. There was no sign of activity in the main street.

We kicked left of the Shrine by about a kilometre, as if to go round Now Zad. Jon kicked right. We were separated by about a kilometre and getting into combat attacking positions on the DC’s southern flank.

Our sights and sensors zoomed in the white building. Puffs of smoke blossomed along its rooftop.

We tracked west of the town, and came in perpendicular to the alleyway between the DC and the white building; the area of interest. The place was heaving with Taliban, whirling like dervishes as they lobbed grenades over the fifteen-foot wall. Our guys in the DC were flinging back their own.

They had been forced out of their sangars at the south-east and south-west corners of the DC by weight of fire, so had no idea their grenades were exploding ineffectively on the enemy’s roof.

Robed figures moved backwards and forwards between the alleyway and the building, rearming with grenades.

‘Bring me onto them,’ Simon snapped.

I dragged across the cyclic and buried it in the inside of my right thigh, throwing the aircraft into a steep banked turn. I rolled it out again, facing the DC, then leaned us over so we moved crablike until I’d lined us up with the alleyway.

At this point, Jon and Jake were still wheeling round to our left.

I brought them up to speed. ‘We’ve got Taliban in the alleyway to the south of the DC and PIDd them as hostile. Tipping in on a gun run, but it’s danger close so call for clearance quickly.’

‘I’ve seen them, stand by.’ Jon broke off to speak with the JTAC. Positive ID lobbing grenades was sufficient for ROE to engage but the proximity wasn’t. It was scary. Danger close was a major league understatement.

‘Widow Seven One, this is Wildman Five Zero. We’ve PID’d them. They are danger close. Repeat, danger close. Confirm you want us to fire.’

Widow dropped his callsign to make the calls quicker. ‘How accurate is your thirty mil?’

‘I can put them through the window if you want,’ Jake replied, ‘but I repeat, they are danger close. Danger close. Get your men under cover with body armour and helmets on if you want us to engage.’