‘That means more than a thousand men!’ said one of them. ‘It says a lot for the Talibs if they can hold a whole battlegroup up.’
‘Well if that ANP guy was telling the truth, there are hundreds of Talibs in this part of the world too,’ said Gaaz. ‘So just do the maths. How many Paras do you need to defeat ten Taliban?’
‘But shouldn’t it be the other way round?’ came the reply. ‘How many Talibs do you need to hold up ten Paras?’
‘Well you hope the answer is one Para to ten or more Talibs, don’t you?’
‘That’s what you thought. But maybe this is telling us something different.’
The conversation continued up in the sangar later in the evening. Nobody could quite understand what was taking the Paras so long. It wouldn’t be until afterwards that it really came home to us that they were hugely overstretched with other commitments.
‘Could be they’re having trouble getting supplies in,’ suggested someone.
‘Maybe they’ve taken more casualties than they were expecting,’ said another.
‘What about sickness?’ said Gaaz. ‘Could be they’ve all gone down with a stomach bug.’
That didn’t seem very likely.
All the time we were chatting like this, I was moving round inside the sangar, trying to get the best view of the buildings around us. I kept swapping between my nightsight, my binos and my personal weapon sight. There was a good moon that night and you could actually see quite well. Every so often, I’d call the bhais in Sangar 3 to make sure they were OK. And then about every half-hour I would send a sitrep to Platoon HQ. In fact there weren’t too many minutes of quiet either over the field telephone or on the PRR, so all the chatting we did was in snatches.
From talking about 3 PARA, the riflemen started talking about the prospects of another quiet night.
‘So what do you reckon, guruji? They gonna come back tonight?’ Nagen wanted to know.
‘There’s a good chance,’ I replied.
‘I don’t know why they’d bother,’ said Gaaz. ‘Just look at the state of this place. It’s a dump.’ He gestured towards the building opposite, its doorway blackened from yesterday’s engagement. That was one shop that wasn’t going to be open for business for quite some time.
The silence that followed was broken by Nagen, holding up a bottle.
‘Anyone need a drink?’
‘Thanks,’ I said, swallowing half a litre.
Although it was still a lot warmer than room temperature, we prevented our water supplies from getting too hot by keeping them in a sock soaked in urine. This isn’t something you would want to do at home, but it was a practical solution to the problem, and surprisingly effective.
At around ten thirty, Lance Corporal Shree in Sangar 3 came up over the PRR.
‘Vehicle movements east and north-east, distance approximately three kilometres,’ he announced breathlessly. ‘Could be they’re RV-ing.’
I snatched up my weapon sight. RV-ing means rendezvousing. It sounded like enemy troops were on their way, but I couldn’t verify this as the view from Sangar 1 towards the east was partially obscured by the buildings in the way.
‘Can you give a more accurate position?’ I wanted to know.
‘Looks like they’re heading for AOI Three.’
‘Roger, can you see anything else?’
‘Nothing at the moment. Just a lot of vehicle lights.’
‘Roger.’
I picked up the field telephone.
‘Zero, this is Sangar One. Sangar Three reports increased vehicle movement near to AOI Three.’
‘Roger. I’ll give him a call.’
At once, we were on hyper-alert again. This could be the start of something big.
Not long after this sighting, we heard a rifle shot, followed by another and then another.
‘ZERO – THIS IS SANGAR THREE. CONTACT – WAIT OUT!’
Lance Corporal Shree’s voice was charged with tension.
For a few minutes we were silent – three men fully alert and watching for the slightest movement on the ground.
‘So what do you think, guruji?’ Gaaz demanded after some time. ‘Are they coming d’you reckon? Or are they just pretending?’
‘If it was me, I’d just be pretending,’ said Nagen. ‘I wouldn’t want to be hit by A-10 again.’
You might be right, I thought. But on the other hand, it took a certain amount of time to get air support. The OC mentioned in one of his O-groups that unless there was an aircraft in the vicinity at the time of a shout it was going to take a minimum of thirty minutes before they could get to us. And thirty minutes was quite enough time for the enemy to make serious trouble for us.
While the other two kept lookout, I went carefully through everything in the sangar one more time. GPMG rounds? How many boxes and are they all open? Check. Minimi rounds, how many and are they all open? Check. Rifle magazines. I counted mine. Twelve.
‘Nagen. Show me your magazines.’
‘They’re here, guruji.’
‘OK good. What about yours, Gaaz?’
‘Here, guruji.’
Next, grenades. I straightened the pile. Twenty grey-black canisters promising death to anyone who came close enough. Including ourselves if the enemy got lucky.
‘How about water, bhai haru? Nagen, how many’ve you got left?’
‘Four, guruji.’
‘Gaaz?’
‘Same.’
And I had four. Plus there were six spares. That should see us through the night. Should.
The minutes ticked slowly by. After the initial contact, there was no follow-up. So maybe it had been just a random gunman. Even so, I felt quite uneasy. Maybe it had to do with the town being so quiet. It felt like a graveyard. Now that it was dark, it seemed even more empty.
Gaaz suddenly called out in a loud whisper.
‘Guruji! Guruji!’
‘What is it?’
‘Down there!’ He was trying not to raise his voice above a whisper, but he was clearly agitated. I pulled down my night-vision sight and crawled over to where he was aiming his weapon, down into the alleyway a few metres to the left of the burned-out shop.
‘Straight ahead! Thirty metres! I saw one of them, guruji. Leopard-crawling. Crossing between those two buildings!’
‘Was he armed?’
‘Yes. On his back. Looked like an AK.’ Gaaz was having trouble keeping his voice down.
‘Show me with your laser.’
The place he indicated was the T junction at the end of an alleyway. There was a building directly ahead and two more either side of the alleyway itself. So there must be a narrow passage running at ninety degrees to it.
I pulled out my map and shone my torch on it to check the exact location.
‘Zero, this is Sangar One. Contact,’ I said into the field telephone, covering the mouthpiece with my hand to minimise the sound of my voice, and talking hardly above a whisper. ‘Gunman crossing alleyway south to north grid—’ I gave the grid reference. ‘Am observing, over.’
‘Zero, roger. Keep me posted.’ Mathers sahib’s voice was as cool and calm as ever.
I lay next to Gaaz, peering through my sight for several minutes. Because of the good moon, I could see very clearly, but it’s impossible to concentrate on empty space indefinitely, so I put the sight up and took a rest.
‘Could be just one guy,’ I said quietly.
Gaaz said nothing.
‘A sniper getting into position,’ I went on.
‘You think? But he’s so close. They’re coming to kill us, guruji!’
You could be right, I thought. It sounded more like he was making for an FUP, a forming-up place, from which they might launch an attack in section or platoon strength. This was a really bad thought, and for a moment I wondered what I was going to say to my bhais’ families if one of them got hit. I felt completely responsible for them.
‘Well if he’s not a sniper, there should be more of them. Do you reckon
there might have been others?’
‘I think I’d have seen them, guruji.’
It’s movement that gives you away before anything else. Sound can come from anywhere, and you’d be amazed how difficult it can be to see a static target even if it isn’t well camouflaged. It was easy to believe what Gaaz was saying. He surely would have seen if there had been others. But then again, maybe those sniper shots earlier were designed to distract us. Maybe the others had crossed while we were looking elsewhere.
This was puzzling. If it was me and I was leading my section across an obstacle like that, I’d do the same – get down and crawl so as to present the least target possible. But I’d get my troops over at ten-second intervals, maximum twenty. I’d been watching the place Gaaz indicated for almost five minutes now, and hadn’t seen anything. Chances were that if the one he had seen was one of a group, the others were already across.
‘OK. We just wait,’ I said.
I could tell that Gaaz was really nervous, and I pulled down my nightsight again to take another quick look at the crossing. I didn’t expect to see anything, simply to try to figure out where the FUP might be when—
Contact!
I was just in time to see another one cross. Like Gaaz had said about the previous one, he had a rifle on his back and he was leopard-crawling between the two buildings. My pulse rocketed.
I picked up the field telephone.
‘Hello Zero, this is Sangar One, contact! Another suspected enemy seen leopard-crawling between the two buildings at end of alleyway. Same location.’ My breath was coming in short, sharp gasps and I had to make a conscious effort not to shout.
‘Zero, roger.’
‘Looks like they could be crossing at five-minute intervals. Will keep observing.’
‘Roger. Sounds like they could be moving forward to occupy an FUP. And he was definitely armed?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Was he pointing his weapon?’
‘No. But definitely posing a threat. No question from my point of view.’
‘Roger. In that case you may engage if you see any more.’
‘Roger out.’
I turned to the others.
‘OK, so Gaaz, bring the jimpy over here. If we see any more, I’ll use it to fire first. When I do, I want you to engage with your rifle. Nagen, you keep the main road covered.’
As I set the GPMG up, I caught the expression on Nagen’s face in the moonlight. He looked a bit disappointed. Of course, he wanted to be in on the action. But it could be that the enemy were going to assault from his side first anyway.
The time ticked past agonisingly slowly. Because the GPMG doesn’t have a nightsight, I was relying on the moonlight to see. It was a real strain, and even though I didn’t want to take my eyes off the crossing point even for an instant, I found I had to look away for a few seconds every so often.
Suddenly, at what must have been five minutes exactly, another gunman appeared. Without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger.
BABABA
I gave him a three-round burst while Gaaz followed up with another two.
TAK TAK
There was a loud scream and we saw the enemy roll over and over. But a moment later he was pulled out of sight by unseen hands.
‘Zero. This is Sangar One. Target! Rifleman crossing alleyway hit. Has now been dragged off position.’ I could still hear him screaming.
‘Roger. Well done. So the others must still be there.’
‘I don’t think he could have got himself away, so yes. Must still be there.’
‘Roger. Well you probably won’t see any more, but keep an eye out all the same.’
‘Roger, out.’
I suppose you will ask how I felt. The answer is, not much. We were in an extremely tense situation. We had had an engagement that had lasted on and off the whole of the previous day, followed by a respite of twelve hours during which none of us had managed more than three or four hours’ sleep. And now we were facing the prospect of another serious engagement. For me at the time, he was just a target. Now, looking back – well, of course I can think about him as a human being. Someone’s son, a brother perhaps, and maybe a father like myself.
But I have no regrets. On the contrary – I would not hesitate to pull the trigger again.
You see, we’d been out there two weeks at this point. We’d had a lot of quite small contacts. Then there was the big contact of the day before. Up until then our only sightings of the enemy had been fleeting glimpses. The guy with the RPG on his back. The muzzle smoke giving away a fire position. But that was about it, unless you counted those guys on the back of a motorcycle riding slowly past with insolent expressions on their faces. Or the scowls of the older men at the shura. What we really wanted was to do our job. We wanted to win the battle of hearts and minds and to protect the locals. But if people were going to attack us, what we wanted was a fair fight.
As for the guy in the alleyway, what I’d really like to have done was to go down and stand with my boot on his chest and just ask him:
Why?
Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to kill me? I didn’t come here to kill you. I didn’t fire a single shot at you, not before you tried to kill me. I’m not here because I wanted to kill you. I’m here because I was sent to help. To help you and your people. But you are here because you want to kill me. Tell me why.
And he could tell me. I’d have listened to everything he’d had to say. But then I would have killed him. I would have killed him because I knew that if I let him go, he would try to kill me. This man wanted me dead. This was war.
Maybe he’d have some excuse. Maybe he’d tell me about how his brother was killed, or his father or mother. Maybe he’d tell me that this was Holy War for him. That he was fighting for Allah. But I would still kill him because I want people to understand that you can’t do this. You can’t set out to kill and not expect a reaction from us. You don’t take on the British Gurkhas and think we aren’t going to hit back.
It’s simple. If you try to kill us, we will try to kill you. And I know who will win. Give us the same weapons, we will win. Give us the same food, we will win. Give us exactly equal conditions, we will win. And if you won’t give us a fair fight, we will take you down with us just the same. You need to understand this.
It could be like it was in Burma, at the siege of Imphal, where the Japanese were in total superiority as they tried to invade India during the Second World War. The Gurkhas were ordered to retake Mortar Bluff, and Subedar Netra bahadur Thapa – who won the VC – found himself and his section completely cut off by the enemy. When he radioed for reinforcements, they were all killed. But he managed to get the ammunition they’d brought and he and his section immediately renewed his attack on the Japanese with kukris and grenades. The enemy shot him in the mouth and then blew him up with an artillery shell, but when they recovered his body, they found a Japanese soldier next to him with his head cut in half by a kukri.
So if I could have spoken to that Talib in the alley, I’d have congratulated him. I’d have admitted his courage.
‘You are not cowardly,’ I would have said. ‘You are courageous. You know our capabilities. You know our weapons. You have seen our air support. Yet still you come. That is brave and I respect you for that.’ And then I would have added, ‘But we are braver. Definitely braver. You need to understand this. We will fight harder than you. We will have more aggression than you. We will even have more laughter than you. In the end, we always win. We are Gurkhas.’
‘They’re not going to come again, are they, guruji?’
Nagen snapped me out of my thoughts. He was surely right. That was too much to expect. But, just in case, I kept the crossing in my sights. As you would a rat hole.
‘They can’t be that stupid,’ Gaaz agreed.
‘You just never know,’ I replied. ‘Same detail. Keep observing.’
Again the time dragged past so slowly that five minutes seemed like half
a lifetime. Maybe because you’re concentrating with your whole mind and your whole body, completely alert, time really does slow down. But then—
Another one!
BABABA!
TAK TAK!
Exactly five minutes after the last one!
Again there was a scream. And again the body was pulled away by unseen hands.
We looked at each other, astounded.
‘WOW, guruji!’ said Nagen, looking round over his shoulder. ‘Bloody hell,’ I said.
‘They’re crazy!’ said Gaaz excitedly. ‘Totally crazy!’
‘Zero, this is Sangar One. Target! Another one! Same location.’
‘Zero, roger. Well done. You’d better keep it in your sights. Maybe they’ve got a death wish.’
‘Sangar One roger. Out.’
You would have thought that after two ambushes like that, the enemy would realise his route was completely compromised. But then again, you never know what’s going to happen in a combat situation.
‘All right,’ I said to the bhais. ‘We keep watching.’
‘OK, guruji. But do you really think …?’
‘I don’t know. If it was me, I’d have changed my tactics by now. But maybe there’s some reason why they can’t use any other route.’
A dog barked in the distance. Then another and another. There was definitely still movement out there.
In the meantime, the seconds ticked slowly past. It just couldn’t be that they would send anyone else. But maybe they’d try to pass some weapons over, or some ammo. That was a possibility. Still my heart was raging in my chest and I was taking some deep steadying breaths when—
BABABABA
TAK TAK
Another one! I didn’t even pause to think this time. Again he rolled over several times before disappearing.
‘That’s it, guruji. Now we’re going to get the whole lot of them,’ said Gaaz excitedly. ‘They obviously think it’s Allah’s plan they’re gonna die tonight.’
‘Zero, this is Sangar One. TARGET! Same location again!’
‘Good work, Kailash. Just make sure you don’t fixate on the one position. Keep looking elsewhere.’
Gurkha: Better to Die than Live a Coward: My Life in the Gurkhas Page 17
