F e a t u r e s
jets). Having none of this, I decided to turn around and drive towards them. I reasoned it would hurt them more than it would hurt me if we collided! Unfortunately, this just made them angrier and some of the larger dogs tried to jump on to the truck, perhaps a human would make a tasty dinner for their pack. Avoiding them I managed to speed away to complete the duty inspection. Then, as I was half way down the 4km long runway the alarm sounded. Lying on the concrete with ‘lots’ of rockets landing in the vicinity was not amusing, added to the threat of the dogs wanting to eat me. A very tense few minutes. Fortunately the dogs didn’t pick up my scent and left a safe passage back to the tower where I was able to recover. Another interesting day at the office.
The Night Shift
Up at 1430hrs, gymnasium again, thank heavens for the invention of the iPod. Attempts to get to work on time were often foiled by a 1700hrs attack which often happened and which put the whole evening back half an hour or more. It also meant eating your dinner while lying on the floor of the dining hall. If there was going to be a ground operation into the city during the night there would normally be a significant air presence; the regular helicopter flights could be supported by a USAF C130 Gunship, UAVs with Hellfire missiles or jet aircraft (UK and US) ready to descend to low level as a show of force to over fly any build up of enemy. More often than not, all were involved creating a demanding working environment for the duration of the operation. As sound is more audible at night you would often hear explosions from within the city or roadside bombs going off on the outlying roads. One particular night an almighty boom was heard causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up; The result of a Warrior armoured vehicle being blown apart by an IED. 4 soldiers and an interpreter killed. What wasn’t reported much was that one soldier
survived, but what mental scars would he have?
Rocket/Mortar Attacks There were many rocket and mortar attacks during the period of my detachment, sometimes several per day and night. The news stations reported that when Tony Blair visited and an attack was launched, it was an assassination attempt. That meant I had 444 assassination attempts on my life during my stay. (This figure may seem low to personnel who were stationed in any of the bases in Basrah city as I know they sometimes experienced a great deal more than rocket attacks). The closest landed approximately 50 metres away and caused a fuel storage site to explode. It required the RAF fire-fighters, with the assistance of the Iraqi fire-fighters, to extinguish the fire. Your heart races when the alarm sounds and gets faster and faster as the whistle of the rockets go over and the explosion of the impacts seem to get closer. The earth shudders, your eardrums are pounded and when shrapnel rains on the buildings around you, you wonder what damage it would cause to a human body? A friend and I would sometimes play cards while lying on the floor, some might say ‘bravado’ but really it was simply to try and take our minds away from the frightening reality of being attacked and the possibility of incurring injury or death.
There are certain defensive counter-measures to provide the base with security when an attack is launched, the most offensive being the105mm field guns. The blast from these can be heard across the camp and at night, from the vantage point of the ATC tower, you can sometimes see the shells exploding on impact. Being positioned within the tower you also see incoming rounds landing close by; on one occasion I witnessed a Land Rover Discovery being ‘damaged’ by a rocket that landed a few feet away from it. Luckily for the occupant the vehicle was left-hand drive and the impact was to the vehicle’s right – she got out suffering only from shock, and luckily, there was nobody in the passenger seat.
The amount of sleep you get each night, or day if sleeping off from a night shift, would depend on the number of attacks. No attacks meant a decent(ish) sleep. Multiple attacks equal not much sleep and you become adept at rolling out of bed and pulling your CBA over you at the same time
Spring 2008 9
when the alarm rudely awakens you from any slumber. On my return to the UK I found myself subconsciously sleeping on the edge of the bed; it took a while before moving back towards the centre.
Homeward Bound Luck is a great thing. I believe it was on my side for the duration of my detachment. I survived multiple rocket/mortar attacks aimed at the base without injury and without witnessing any serious incident at close hand. Moreover, I didn’t see any Camel spiders. My friends and colleagues have also returned to the UK to tell their war stories. I know lots of personnel haven’t returned to their homes in a similar state or been as fortunate and my thoughts are often with them.
I had mixed emotions when preparing to depart Basrah Air Station. On the one hand I was relieved to be going home, on the other I was leaving behind friends and colleagues vulnerable to further attack. I was privileged enough to return home on a C17, sleeping on the floor and sharing the aircraft with Dangerous Air Cargo but it didn’t matter to me. I was homeward bound.
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56