Spoken from the Front (26 page)

It was the right-hand door of the cab that I could not get
open. The engine block was all ablaze. I saw my 51 man
sitting on the floor in shock so I shouted to him: 'Get me out
of this fucking vehicle.' Luke [Private Luke Nadriva]
managed, with the driver, to squeeze the [crumpled] armour
and I slipped out of the vehicle. As I slipped out, the door
shut and all the skin peeled off my arm where it had been
burnt. I took a couple of steps and fell over. I had a quick look
to make sure my foot was there and it was. So then I started
crawling back to try and get away. Being a reserve vehicle, it
was full of ammunition. I didn't know where anyone was at
the time. It all happened in a split second. And the casualties
were starting to get extracted. There were four casualties in
total because the front cab got the brunt of the blast. It was me
and the driver, who were worst off. The 51 man behind
me had minor burns to his arms and the gunner had burns to
his arms and his face.

The Viking was smoking: there was thick black smoke. I got
dragged to the rear of the sergeant major's vehicle. I was then
treated on the ground by a medic and I got put onto the
Chinook. I remember flying back. I had this pain in my right
foot, but I was more worried about my bloody eyes. The blast
had blown all my eyelashes off and I was getting dust in my
eyes. I remember screaming out for a damp cloth so I could
get all the dust out of them. After that I couldn't take my boot
off. I wanted to check my foot was still intact. I didn't have
morphine on the ground because I didn't want it. But once I
got onto the Chinook and I knew everyone was safe, I had
some. I could feel my right foot swelling up. I knew it wasn't
right. It was bloody sore. The driver was more seriously hurt
than me. He was having trouble breathing because he had a
lot of inhalation burns so he was in a bad way.

The MERT [medical emergency response team] was on
board the Chinook so it was a case of a paramedic giving me
morphine. I don't remember much after that. I remember
getting put onto the ambulance at Bastion on the HLS. I
remember getting into the hospital. I then went in to have
surgery to remove the shrapnel from my wrist and to treat all
the burns on my arms. From there, I was fast-balled and got
put on a plane [still on the same day] and taken back to
Kandahar. I got stabilized and then put on a plane to the UK
and I was in Birmingham within twenty-four hours, at Selly
Oak Hospital. I didn't know the damage to my foot until I got
to Selly Oak. By this stage, all my head had swollen up as
well because of the flash burns. My eyes had swollen shut. I
was put on the burns unit for a week and I had to wait for
the swelling to go down in my foot before they could operate
on it.

But I had a consultant look at it and I had the X-rays and
everything. I knew it was repairable but I also knew it was in
a pretty bad way and it would never be the same again. My
heel had shattered and was subsequently reconstructed with
a [metal] plate and many pins. I have had four operations:
two on my right foot, another to repair a tendon in my left
wrist and one to take out the shrapnel. Altogether I was in
hospital just under a month. I don't feel it's the end of my
Army career. I'm on the mend. I have another eight years'
service left – so I might as well do them.

Captain Adam Chapman, The Mercian Regiment

Last night and today were significant in that incidents
occurred which brought home the realities of war for the first
time. I had a section on JTAC Hill that called on indirect fire
from the 105mm guns to assist in destroying an enemy
position. However, somewhere along the chain, a grave error
was made. This resulted in a local village being shelled. Very
soon after, a number of civilian casualties were brought to
[Camp] Delhi for help, some serious. Unfortunately, some
died. The rest were airlifted to Kandahar for treatment.
[Chapman has asked for it to be pointed out that the error
was not made by troops on the ground.]

The next morning a group of men arrived at our front gate
in Delhi, obviously upset, angry and seeking answers. A few
of us went out to speak to them and there were some heated
debates. I stood back and John (a captain whose job it is to
liaise with the locals) and an interpreter dealt with things as
best they could. Shortly after this, a vehicle with more men
and the body of a young child arrived. Not a very nice scene;
emotions were running high and understandably so.

That afternoon my troop was tasked to go down to the
village with John on a 'hearts and minds' patrol to see what
we could do to help and appease the locals. After all, it's
essential to maintain their support. We were worried how
they would react so it was potentially a dangerous situation
for us.

The patrol was successful: although extremely angry, they
[the locals] eventually came to understand it was an accident,
albeit a devastating and fatal one. They showed us damage to
buildings and a cow that was killed by shrapnel. By the end,
I was sat down on a rug with John and some senior local men
drinking chai [like tea]. It's a very nice drink. I hope the
opium fields and cannabis bushes around the compound had
nothing to do with it!

The Afghans are hospitable and friendly, and I felt sorry for
them. They live simple lives, in poverty by our standards,
and wish only to live in peace. They don't want the Taliban
and they don't want us. It's a difficult situation made even
more so by dropping [a bomb] on them by accident. But
unfortunately that is the reality of modern warfare. It is
usually the civilians who suffer the most. But in Afghanistan
the support, or at least the acquiescence, of the locals is
essential. Without it, we won't succeed. I just hope that
we avoid any other incidents. Tonight there'll be some
individuals with a lot on their conscience.

I spoke briefly to Mum and Lisa [his girlfriend] last night as
there are satellite phones I can use here. Both were surprised
to hear from me, so it's good for them to know I am OK.
Reassurance is all they can get really ...

Another busy and significant period. Yesterday there were a
number of contacts on the check-points and a member of the
ANA died on the Eastern Check-point, but not through
enemy action. It's believed it was either a heart-attack
or a drugs' overdose. His body is in the camp awaiting
pick-up.

The troop also took part in its second major op as part of
the company mission to stir up some trouble in Objective
Snowdon, before air and artillery hit the Taliban. The plan
was for my platoon to get into a fire-support position to
provide cover for 3 Platoon's strike on the objective: air and
artillery would then destroy any enemy in the area. All was
going well until we got close to the fire-support location. We
then spotted approx. seven to nine enemy in a wood-line to our
south. I made the decision that it would be unsafe to move any
further south. I got permission to engage the enemy and did so.
My platoon fired a few hundred rounds – rifle and machinegun
(I fired about half a magazine). But the real damage was
done firing a Javelin anti-tank missile (costs nearly £70,000 and
is heat-seeking) and four ILAWs (interim light anti-armour
weapons – about £10,000 each). Total enemy killed was about
five with many more injured in the follow-up mortar and
artillery strike that covered our withdrawal. We got back to
[Camp] Delhi and I was very happy. In my eyes a successful op:
we killed and injured several Taliban whilst taking no casualties
ourselves.

Flight Lieutenant Christopher 'Has' Hasler, DFC, RAF

This was a special day. I went to Buckingham Palace to collect
my DFC from the Queen. My folks came over from Canada.
My parents, Michael and Mary Margaret, flew over from
Ottawa. My younger sister, Olivia – we call her Livvy – who
works in human resources back home, flew over from
Halifax, Nova Scotia. I was so nervous that, even two minutes
after getting my award, I couldn't remember a word the
Queen said to me. But we all [including other decorated RAF
men] went to have lunch at Claridge's. All the boys from
work got on their number ones [their formal blue RAF
uniforms] and we all got pretty drunk in town. It was a day
to remember.

Captain Adam Chapman, The Mercian Regiment

Today is a very sad day here in [Camp] Delhi: the mood is
sombre and quiet. Another young soldier [Guardsman
Probyn] has died and two others have had to have legs
amputated after there was an explosion on their patrol.
Exactly what happened is unknown as yet, but 3 Platoon
were on a routine patrol when it happened at around 0100.
Over the next couple of hours everybody battled hard to get
the injured to safety and to the helicopter, and then to Bastion.
Everyone did what they could but it was chaotic and
frustrating not being able to help more. I've got two soldiers
who are a little upset and slightly shocked. They were
personally involved in moving the dead and injured. Their
angst is understandable: a young man shouldn't ever have to
see the bloody and mutilated remains of another young man
who was alive and well alongside us only a few hours before.

The scary thing is that it could have been my troop who got
hit: we do the same job in the same places, and we've been to
the same area. Fate, I suppose.

Lance Corporal Daniel Power, The Royal Welsh

There is one particular contact that I will always remember.
We had been tasked to go up to Tarin Kowt, in the Oruzgan
province, to help the Dutch. They were carrying out a reconstruction
role and they were getting a lot of stick [from the
Taliban] up there. So we had been tasked to do certain ops up
there. It was a full Bravo Company which was sixty blokes, in
WMIKs and Snatches. We got there no problem at all. We did
ops in the TK [Tarin Kowt] Bowl. There were a lot of Green
Zones there: we were trying to draw them [the Taliban] out of
the Green Zones and hit them. We didn't really want to go
into the Green Zones due to our [small] numbers because it
was such a vast area.

We had seen sporadic contacts up there, nothing to talk
about. Then, after two weeks, we were due to leave Tarin
Kowt for a vehicle move down to Kandahar – an eight-hour
drive. This was daytime. We set off first thing – six or seven
in the morning. It was still dark when we got in the vehicles.

Prior to this we had had a hint [intelligence] that there were
200 Taliban on the route we were going to take back. They
had been seen there earlier. Some hints you pay attention to –
and this was one of them because it seemed like good
information. It was known that the Taliban were going to do
a surge out on the ground – a mass surge. We were quite
apprehensive. You think: Two hundred guys. That's a lot. We
had between sixty and seventy guys.

But after we had been on the road for about half an hour, it
started to come light. We were driving down. We split the
convoy into two packets – two groups so we were not one big
target. It was planned that if one of the packets was contacted,
we could manoeuvre the other to help out if needed.
There were about sixteen vehicles: two groups of eight. There
was only 150 metres between the two: close enough to
support each other but a bit of spacing too. I was in the
second vehicle of the second packet – in a WMIK. It was quite
picturesque. It's quite funny because you are in one of the
world's most dangerous places and there are some quite
picturesque views on the way down.

We had been on the road travelling for roughly an hour and
a half and then we came to a winding road through the
terrain. On the right-hand side, there was a high-rise bank,
and there were small buildings dotted around the place. And
on our left-hand side there was a lot of foliage and trees that
were slightly higher than head height. Then, again on the left,
the ground dipped down slightly and there was a lot of dead
ground down there. Just beyond that, in the far distance,
there were mountains all around us. The first packet had
gone out of sight completely, when we heard a lot of
machine-gun fire coming down. It then came over the net
[radio network] that there was a contact. And that was when
we started to receive incoming: mortar rounds landing in and
around our position on the road. Then they fired their first
RPGs. They [the Taliban's weapons] were set at different
ranges. They like to have their guys set at different ranges.
Normally an ambush is a linear one, but this seemed like a

360°: they were firing from both sides. They were firing from
right and left, up the road. So it was like a 360? ambush. The
ambush was quite long – I think it lasted for twenty minutes.
I was on a WMIK so I was firing and commanding. I was
firing my GPMG. The enemy are quite brazen as well – some
of them are on drugs. There were rounds landing in the
engine block, through the bonnet. Basically, the platoon
commander at that point decided to hold back the second
packet while he formulated a plan. But due to the terrain,
there was really only one way you could go. And that was
forward. There was a vehicle in front of us that had gone firm
– making itself a hard target for the enemy – and the road was
only really wide enough to take one vehicle. My vehicle
started taking rounds, so I got my driver to edge forwards
slightly, then reverse back slightly, then drive forward. Then
we identified a building on the left, where armed gunmen
had been seen running into cover. So the vehicle in front got
an NLAW – a light anti-tank weapon – and fired that into the
position. I got my top cover to fire into the position too, with
the machine-gun. The compound was 300 metres away. We
were smashing the fuck out of this compound. My bonnet
was strewn with empty cases because my top cover had used
quite a substantial amount of ammo. Then, as I was firing,
these two gun men ran thirty or forty metres away into dead
ground – ground you cannot see between you and the enemy.
They must have been withdrawing from [a fire-fight with] the
first packet when we spotted them. That was when I had one
of them in my sights and I gave it a couple of bursts and that
was when he dropped. It killed him. Then the top cover fired
at the other one. It wasn't seen if he had killed him.