Will Laidlaw - Apache over Libya

On 11 June Chris James called from the CAOC with an unusual proposition for a mission:

We want you to go on deck alert, like VHR in Afghanistan, and work for the Commodore if other maritime assets find the SF speedboats. The legal advice is that we need to be sure where they came from, that the pattern is consistent. Once that is established you can be launched to strike. The SKASaC will be up and they can give you a steer to the boats. Once you’re done, get back to Ocean for a re-arm and a refuel and we’ll send you against whatever else the Pred can find on land.

The 857 Naval Air Squadron Sea King Airborne Surveillance and Control helicopter (SKASaC) could sit a long way from the coast and hoover up the entire sea and ground picture with its radar. With this all-seeing electronic eye it could track anything that moved and then steer another sea or airborne asset to intercept. The SKASaC crews flew night and day over the Med, providing electronic intelligence for the Commodore and shaping NATO options for maritime strike activities. Coupling the already vigilant surface and sub-surface maritime assets with the SKASaC, and ultimately cueing the Apache to strike, kept the watchers unseen and silent to the regime. Conducting the strike at night over the sea, where the pro-Gad SF had chosen to work, meant we stayed feet-wet and unseen too. It was a compelling task. These SF operators had been terrorizing the rebel front line for months, as well as mounting raids against the city of Misrata itself. They laid mines in the sea and left partially submerged boats laden with explosives to hamper humanitarian efforts. They were also guilty of stuffing mannequins with explosives, clothing them and dropping them into the sea as improvised explosive devices aimed at hitting NATO or aid agency vessels.

Striking pro-Gad SF would be a big blow to the regime’s military planners. The improvised explosive mannequins were an alarming tactic – no mariner will ever leave a body in the water and these devices were designed to exploit that code of the sea. Preventing this activity and denying pro-Gad the use of their coastal waters for manoeuvre would either confine them to Al Khums or force them to travel by land, thus risking a NATO airstrike. Fast-moving small boats at sea in the dark presented a challenging target for NATO; the aircraft would have to get low and slow, so only attack helicopters would do.

In the CAOC Jack Davis and Chris James had cleared two VCPs close to the front line as the primary targets for the mission, and they requested that we be ready to launch two hours before the scheduled Vul time in case the pro-Gad speedboats were at work. The Commodore and his team in the ship, who now included the CO, ran up the plan, liaised with every other asset out there and handed us a neat pack ready for our final detail. This process happened for every mission. The CAOC team rushed about making things happen in a confusing and fast-jet-oriented environment. The Commodore’s team in Ocean worked very long hours to assist in developing the understanding of the plan by getting various maritime assets involved. The CO would spend the early morning in discussion with James and Jack in Italy, while the Commodore’s targeteer got everything she could with a sensor to provide more detail of the route and the targets.

And we aircrew would come well rested and fresh to the briefing room at circa 1400hrs each day to receive the proposition for the next mission. Throughout the afternoon discussions continued while the crews planned. I would discuss the legal elements with the CO and the lawyer in Italy and finally we would settle on the way to approach the mission.

That night the plan was simple. Be ready and react, just as we did every day and night in Afghanistan with the quick reaction VHR pair. We were all well practised at launching quickly with little information, receiving target coordinates while airborne and then arriving on scene and deciding how to fix the problem. This was the stuff of the Apache in Helmand and it is a core skill in all our aircrew. This time we would do it at sea against boats, but the fighting philosophy was no different.

Throughout the afternoon of 12 June the two VCPs were very active, with regular rocket and artillery strikes heading across the front line and into Misrata. The jets and the Pred had been busy, and we waited in anticipation of the evening launch. Late that afternoon I had a telephone conversation with our legal adviser in the CAOC. She gave me the full legal basis of the VCP strike, as she did for every target, but this time she also presented me with her analysis of the potential speedboat strike. The pattern of life, the origin of the boats and the activity they got up to while they were out would all be considered by the CAOC, and we would only be released when they were sure the targets were good to strike. This mission-by-mission assurance from the CAOC told us what we needed to do to make a just and precise trigger pull. With this final and most up-to-date piece of crucial information I briefed the mission in what was now refined to a 30-minute session. We were set, Ocean was in her silent timeline and Nick Stevens and Little Shippers got ready to launch in Machete 2 while John Blackwell and I prepared Machete 1.

During my final checks, as I signed out my morphine and personal weapons, Chris James was once again on the phone from Italy:

All set, and we have a Pred too. He’s limited on fuel and he doesn’t have any Hellfire left. So, if the speedboat task gets done early enough you’ll be getting targets from him over land. Oh, and no pressure but the Attack Helicopter Force Commander has just arrived here and he’s on the shop floor watching all the feeds right now.

Ha! The big boss was watching live from Italy and we were doing something new and unusual. Oddly, the news barely broke into my mission bubble; I was completely focused on how we would react to a rapid launch.

I didn’t have to wait long to find out. Within five minutes of both aircraft completing their weapons and FLIR checks I noticed the compass header in my right eye rapidly shifting as Ocean heaved on to a new course. It could only be actions for a flying course. We were on a silent timeline as usual, so no radio transmissions were made, but I knew Nick and Little Shippers in the aircraft to my front would be anticipating a launch. Thirty seconds later Doug was tapping on the canopy: ‘Launch, boats! Here’s the coordinates!’ He stuffed a piece of paper with the last known position of the pro-Gad speedboats into my right hand and ran forward along the flight deck to deliver the same news to Nick.

The nil-light flight deck spun into launch mode. Our engines came up to a roar, rotors turned and the ground crew removed the last of the lashings. Within three minutes of Doug’s news we lifted from the deck and slipped away into the low-level dark of the Mediterranean night. The next few minutes were about speed in getting to the point of need, finding the boats and accuracy in doing what needed to be done on the trigger.

As soon as I checked in with Matrix a steady, precise Midwest accent updated the coordinates and told me to raise the SKASaC, Viking, on our own discrete Apache mission frequency and continue on our way. The plan was running very neatly.

‘Viking, this is Machete, ready for your SITREP.’

‘Machete, head 230° and 15 nautics for target, two fast surface movers as briefed’, came the assured reply.

John brought the patrol on to the heading, tipped the nose forward and raised the collective, charging hard towards the fight. In the front seat I flicked on the FCR and began searching the sea for the movers.

‘Now 234° and 12 nautics,’ called Viking, counting us down. ‘Now 245° and 8 nautics… now 251° and 6 nautics…’