by Geoff Wolak
I rushed out and to the billet. Inside, most men having slept in their kit, I shouted, ‘Slider, get nine men ready to go! Fast as you can!’
Nicholson and Swan jumped up, seemingly awake and fresh, shouting at other men and rousing them.
In the ATC I told them, ‘I want the Pumas to take my men in after they fetch the wounded, same position.’
‘Yes, sir, they are winding up now.’
Down from the ATC, Moran came running, kitted ready. ‘What we got?’ he asked.
‘2 Squadron were hit by a large patrol, they have wounded men. I need our lads to land and check the bodies, double-tap, then follow the tracks back to wherever they came from.’
He turned and ran back to the billet as two Lynx sped west.
Ten minutes later the Pumas loudly arrived on the apron, the lads spread across two of them, and they were soon heading west, Moran with the team. Not surprisingly, Rizzo, Monster and Stretch were not with the team. Worryingly, Salome was with the team.
In the HQ room I told Harris, ‘Echo has a team of ten men – one woman - moving to the wounded, to follow the tracks back.’
He updated his sheets with the Intel captains.
Twenty minutes later the Lynx returned with four wounded 2 Squadron lads, so I drove around to the large triage tent. Four men walked themselves in, one limping, two arms bound up. I stood and listened as the wounds were described – by the 2 Squadron lads themselves, and described well in medical terms.
There were two metal shards in arms, one large metal shard sticking out of a leg, one nasty scrape down a man’s back, hit as he was lying down. I was relieved. Stepping away, I called Haines. ‘You in one piece, Mister Haines?’
‘I’m hearing about it by phone, they were attacked at the far end. Nearest patrol drove down to them in a hurry but it was all over, my lads shooting up twenty fighters.’
‘And the RPG?’
‘Fired from over 600yards, hit a jeep wheel, the fighters having crawled to within 400yards, but my lads had telescopic sights and Elephant Guns, hit the fighters easily.’
‘You need a new jeep?’
‘Just a change of wheel.’
‘My men landed?’
‘Yes, at the bodies.’
‘They’ll follow the tracks, see where that lot came from.’
At 9pm I grabbed the two GCHQ men, one with a head bound up. ‘Time to earn your keep, gentlemen. How many listening devices do you have?’
‘Twenty-two.’
‘Get the American Wolves placing them west of us, beyond 2 Squadron, in a line.’ I showed them the map. ‘I want some south at the road, then north, going up in a line. Get to it.’
They stepped out.
Ginger stepped in. ‘Got something for us to do, enough men left for a patrol?’
I waved him to the map. ‘Get the Pumas to drop you here, the first small camp of British Marines, ten miles down the wadi. Then go due south all the way to the road, looking for tracks. That’s almost forty miles.’
‘Be there for lunch then,’ he quipped, stepping out.
I faced Harris. ‘When he calls in, make sure he knows the positions of the American Wolves, and Moran.’
‘Should miss each other by … ten miles.’
‘Should, yes, but make sure.’ I faced Kovsky. ‘Get me some US Marines here, please, we have few men left here.’
He pulled out his sat phone and stepped out.
An hour later eight Seahawks landed, Marines out and down, a captain in charge, all of them with high and tight haircuts. I offered him a billet or two before introducing him to the Omani major.
Up on the ATC roof I had the Marines captain plus four sergeants, and I showed them the layout. ‘You patrol around day and night, protect the aircraft, protect the medics, don’t go outside the line of Omani soldiers. And around here, always expect the unexpected, a missile or a rocket or a mortar.’
They filed down, Flying Officer Deloitte smiling at me as I stepped in to the ATC.
‘Lively morning, sir,’ she noted.
‘Good job I’m an early riser.’
‘I heard you get up early as well,’ she teased.
I cocked an eyebrow at her and hid my grin from her colleagues as I stepped down.
The RAF Squadron Leader waited for me near the HQ room. ‘Can I have some fit young Marines for a few hours?’
‘Yes, ask their captain, make use of them. Plenty of them.’
Kovsky looked up as I entered the HQ room. ‘Ships have surrounded that Gerbil vessel, but the crew refuse to abandon ship, armed men seen on deck. What they don’t know is that a nuclear powered sub is right underneath them, and that the sub is bigger than they are!’
‘And if they won’t budge?’ I asked.
‘They get two fish in the side and sink real quick.’
‘If that’s the plan, have the F18s practise bombing it at about the same time.’ I held my hands wide. ‘How often do the pilots get a chance like this, eh.’
‘I’ll pass the suggestion, yes. We have aircraft circling the ship.’
I sat, a coffee handed to me.
Franks suggested, ‘Could try and board that ship, we are supposed to be able to do that.’
‘Why bother, why take the risk?’ I sipped my coffee.
‘Practise, like you said. Hardly ever been done.’
‘First sign of divers or helos and they’ll blow the ship,’ I suggested.
My phone trilled. ‘Wilco.’
‘It’s Moran, and we checked the bodies, got paperwork and phones, walking west now following the tracks.’
‘Might be jeeps somewhere, or they were set down by helo.’
‘We’ll stretch our legs and see,’ Moran suggested. ‘Nice here, no rocks or gullies; I like the desert.’
‘You could be married by now, working in London, house in Surrey, commute to work, newspaper to read.’
‘Er ... fuck that. Moran out.’
Phone down, Clifford asked, ‘What’s wrong with living in Surrey and commuting to London?’
‘Could you do it, sir?’
‘That’s what waits for me after the army. I have a brother that suffers the daily commute, but he says that it gives him time to plan the day, and that the commute home gives him time to wind down.’
Harris put in, ‘I did a year in the MOD building, commuting in each day. I’d never go back to that.’ He shook his head.
Kovsky took a call. When he ended it, he reported to us all, ‘SEALs are in contact with a force of maybe a hundred fighters, but the fighters are on the run, many killed. They took them in their beds at dawn, no fatalities for the SEALs, but they took some ricochet when a fifty cal opened up. Navy will extract the wounded later.’
Harris updated a sheet, then faced me, ‘I reckon on six hundred and fifty fighters killed, based on estimates. No fatalities our side.’
‘So we’re winning,’ I noted. ‘Apart from that bus in Sinai and the perception in the media – about that bus in Sinai.’
My phone trilled. ‘Wilco, it’s Pritchard, and we’re in contact with the men south, but we’re pouring hot lead onto them, got jeeps up a gentle slope and now we have eight GPMGs firing down. They’re scattering and running.
‘Had some badly aimed RPGs fly in and hit rocks, and one landed under a jeep, no one in it at the time, modest damage. I think the sand reduced the blast effect. We’ve now got some fifty cal coming from maximum range. Wait … I’ll call you back.’
He called back ten minutes later. ‘Got a man down, two wounded! Fucking fighter was hidden underground, popped up and started shooting.’
‘You have a fatality?’ I clarified.
‘Yeah, hit in the head.’
‘One of yours?’
‘Pathfinder, back near the wadi.’
‘I’ll send a Lynx for the wounded, drive them north into the wadi. And the body!’ Phone down, the assembled senior staff were waiting. ‘One Pathfinder killed, terrorist hidden underground, popp
ed up and started shooting. Warn all teams about that, and fast. Send a Lynx to the SAS forward position, where the track south hits the wadi.’
Clifford noted, ‘They’re getting inventive.’
‘We’ll have to modify tactics, eyes in the backs of heads as well.’ I called Swifty and warned him, followed by Moran and Ginger.
Over an hour later the Lynx returned with wounded, plus a body in a poncho, our first fatality here. I called the Brigadier back at GL4 and gave him a lengthy sitrep, and he would call the Pathfinder’s CO for me. He passed me over to Billy for ten minutes, finally a quick chat with Rocko.
Max called me almost as soon as I cut the call to GL4. ‘Can I print the details of the dead Pathfinder?’
‘No, they have to speak to his family first. You can mention a dead Para. I guess they’ll speak to the family today, still early in the UK. Check with the Brigadier first, tonight around 8pm.’
‘I photographed the hide in the sand, makes for a good story, and yesterday I got a shot of all the jeeps lined up.’
Off the phone, I called together the senior staff. ‘OK, as Colonel Clifford noted, they’re getting inventive. We also have the double-edge sword that is the media. Images of the jeeps in the wadi are out there, so the fighters will be making plans – and we won’t like what they come up with. Opinions?’
‘A change of tactics?’ Clifford floated. ‘Helo hop, and leave the jeeps behind?’
‘A good idea yes, because they now expect us to drive further down the wadi.’ I pointed at Kovsky. ‘That dirt strip?’
‘A small group of jeeps at the south end, tents, and that’s it.’
‘Have an F18 fly south down the access track, all the way, eyeball it. Then I want an assessment as to how many men they can throw at us.’
Harris cut in, ‘Fuck all men, those camps are empty, they’re hidden in the hills nearby. If they want to attack that strip they can, but a day later at best.’
‘I agree,’ Kovsky firmly put in. ‘They moved away and they’d have to drive back, a day at least.’
I sighed. ‘It’s open ground.’
Harris noted, ‘Would need time to dig trenches, or risk it.’
I nodded, studying the map. ‘How about … a good force lands near the strip, south, takes up position in the rocks, US Navy hits the track south where it looks narrow, we land men at the strip and dig in, assuming that they won’t get a close-up visit for … two or three days.’
Harris pointed out, ‘That track south is close to the rocks in places, our men could hold it indefinitely.’
‘But be circled by fighters on foot,’ I told them as I stared at the map. ‘OK, Echo would take those rocks, SAS and British forces land by helo, Pathfinders HALO in and assess the runway the night before, kill the fighters there sat about the camp fire, then we land more men, some heavy weapons, pallet drop supplies.
‘I’d have SEALs and Greenies and the Marines stay where they are, we need those small camps hit and cleared. OK, let’s assume that D-Day is three days from now. Tomorrow we recall some Pathfinders and practice with the HALO kit, maybe a team of SAS as well.’
The Omani major stepped in. ‘We have the 105mm at the gate and south towards the border, some APC, and a small brigade of infantry arriving.’
‘Have that brigade make camp south of this base, where our access road meets the main road but back from that road 600yards. I want patrols south of us, and down that road to the border.’
‘I will sort that now,’ he promised as he turned.
Franks asked, ‘What if that strip is good enough for a Hercules?’
‘Then we land men and supplies, and jeeps, and maybe a 105mm - or three. The option is there. Start making plans, everyone.’
I went and found the RAF Squadron Leader in the dark cool hangar as the RAF busied themselves with kit for the Hercules that visited us here. ‘I need my parachutes dusted off and checked, and tomorrow I need a Hercules for some practise, and three days from now we’ll insert a HALO team at night. After that we may have a dirt strip to use, after they check it.’
‘I’ll get that sorted now, plenty of men here, and the parachute instructors are both bored and on edge at the same time. I’ll go cheer them up.’
‘RAF Hercules here in Oman?’
‘No, sent back after the Omanis just about insisted we use theirs.’
‘I think I’d like RAF Hercules for the HALO drop…’
‘Two are in Qatar, exercises, I’ll make a call.’
‘Do we have any video cameras?’
He smiled. ‘Yes, a box full, and photographic cameras.’
‘Any low-light cameras?’
‘They have a setting for low light, I’ll check. For the para drop?’
‘Stick some men with cameras in the Hercules, and strap cameras to HALO bags, turned on before they shuffle out. I want the men filmed getting kitted out, loading the plane, and leaving.’
‘There’re still men from the RAF propaganda team here…’
I smiled. ‘Have them earn their keep then.’
An hour later some of the Parachute Instructors came and found me, all of them dressed like Echo and heavily armed. ‘This drop..?’
I showed them the map.
‘We could tag along, sir, we have the experience, and in the winter time we’re in Cyprus and playing toy soldier, done plenty of patrols in West Africa.’
‘Maybe, yes, I think it will be safe enough.’ Outside, I called Pritchard. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Those that didn’t run off are dead. We haven’t been taking prisoners, not that we’d advertise the fact.’
‘Not to worry, here’s an official directive from me: these are terrorists with suicide vests, do not approach them, go for head shots.’
‘So noted.’
‘Get me a small team of men for a HALO drop, plus a team of Pathfinders, have them drive north to the wadi to be picked up late today.’
‘What’s the drop?’ he puzzled.
‘That airstrip northwest of you, but its empty save a handful of fighters.’
‘I’ll sort the Air Troop now.’
‘Leave their jeeps parked with men left behind to hold that area, and explain that the jeeps will go no further, they know we’re using the wadi and planting mines.’
‘End of the road, eh? Been a fantastic trip, I love the desert here, this is real Lawrence of Arabia stuff.’
‘You’ll probably have men moved by helo to the dirt strip in a few days, so split them up. US Marines can hold that area.’
‘OK, I’ll sort that now.’
Offshore, but still sixty miles from Salalah, F18s strafed the floating bomb that was Gerbil III, a pause and a radio call to encourage the men on the ship to leave that ship. A radio message was received by the US Navy, some rude words used to express a lack of desire to abandon the ship. Engines at full throttle, the Gerbil set a collision course for the nearest British warship.
Ten minutes later an F18 hit the forward deck with a 2,000lb bomb, the ship holed and set alight a moment before two expensive torpedoes slammed into the ship’s side below the water line, two large holes being the result, the ship sinking quickly.
The blast observed by the various warships, by the nuclear powered submarine and the various aircraft, was spectacular, the submariners all complaining after their sub got a load bang on the hull. A new happy home for a few octopus had been created, no survivors picked up in the search that followed, keen TV news crews in the US Navy helicopters.
At 3pm the Pumas were booked alongside six Seahawks, men arriving back at 4pm and down, their old tents occupied. One Air Troop of SAS would drop, twelve men, plus twelve Pathfinders, all to employ our HALO bag technique.
That evening they were all busy in the hangar, checking kit and loading the HALO bags, the Parachute Instructors due to be in on the drop, so eight teams of four would drop, the target being open sand four miles north of the target strip, the target time being 3am.
&nbs
p; Admiral Jacobs called. ‘Wilco, I heard about the HALO drop, so I want SEALs in on it, camera rolling.’
‘Have a team selected and withdrawn to me here, sir. Tonight if you can.’
‘The SEAL commander wants a team of just eight on the drop, cameras rolling.’
‘I’ll send two Hercules on the drop, sir, plenty of room.’
‘I’ll sort them now, they have their chutes and kit on ship, I’ll send it tonight.’
Ten minutes later Moran called. ‘We followed back the tracks, easy to follow, even when it’s dark. But the tracks just stopped, then we found indents, wheels of a helo.’
‘Sneaky. OK, walk back in, I’ll have an insert for you in two days. Get a good leg stretch.’
I called Ginger. ‘Abandon your nice walk, I have a job for Echo. Call a Puma for yourselves in the morning.’
‘We can walk east to the border, not that far, and we can look for tracks as we go.’
‘Up to you, but be back tomorrow.’
At 11pm the expected Seahawks touched down on the apron, men and kit offloaded, a SEAL captain stepping down and welcomed in, the man greying and a little overweight; this guy drove a desk. He greeted Hicks and he knew Kovsky well.
I showed him the map and detailed the plan, as far as the plan went. ‘Echo will insert by loud helo, deliberately loud, and that should keep the fighters interest in Echo. The HALO teams will drop four miles north of the dirt strip, soft sand and very flat, and they’ll form-up and walk down.
‘If the fighters hear the Hercules, or if they have radar – which we’re sure they do, it would be hard work for them trying to find our teams in the dark in such a big area. Plus we aim to cut the re-supply road.
‘At first light your Navy will bomb the road in a few places, slowing them up as we land men and kit by helo.’
‘You aim to create another Camel Toe scenario?’
‘More or less, in that it will piss them off and they’ll want to get at us. Most likely they’ll fire rockets and mortars, but our men will be spread out and dug in. We’ll organise a pallet drop during the day. If … and it’s a big if, the runway is suitable, we land Hercules and jeeps.’
