GROUPS AND SINGLE DECORATIONS FOR GALLANTRY
We look at each other - Craig, Rob, Jonah and me. We’ve all got the beginnings of a beard... We are all stinking, wide-eyed and knackered. Jonah, Rob and I nod.
‘No, we’ll do it,’ Craig says. ‘There’s no point breaking in another crew when we’re already this far down the line. Keep them fresh for duty as rostered. We’ll do the insert.’
Back in the UK, it’d be illegal to fly this tired, for this long. But then again, we wouldn’t be flying as low as we do here either. Here, Concealed Approach and Departure means we can fly at whatever height and speed we want. In the UK, when we say height commensurate with safety of the aircraft, it means when I’m flying at 20ft I’m flying at 10 knots. In Afghanistan, if you’re flying at 10ft, you want to flying at 150 knots! That’s what’s going to make it safer...
We take off again at first light flying as part of a three-ship formation with two Apaches in support, freshly armed and refuelled. A whole company is spread across three Chinooks with Craig and me in one cab, Nichol leading the pack from another and Scot Eldridge flying the third. In the event, it is pretty straightforward; we drop our element of ‘A’ Company, 3 Para and are then diverted to FOB Robinson along with Nichol to repatriate Jim Philippson’s body to Bastion....
We are more than a little ragged by the time we lift from FOB Robinson. It is like looking at the world through a veil, like we are six degrees of separation removed from events; they are happening but there is a weird kind of lag to everything, as though space-time has become distorted.... When we eventually shut down the cab, it’s twenty-four hours and thirty-five minutes since we’d started duty. It is for the missions we’ve flown this night that Craig is later gazetted and awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.’ (Ibid)
Shortly after this intense operation Duncan was posted back to the UK on a month’s leave. He was then posted to ‘C’ Flight, 27 Squadron, R.A.F. Odiham, in September 2006.
Second tour of Afghanistan - Captain of Aircraft
Duncan returned to Kandahar for a second tour of operations in early July 2007. This time the Chinook Force was deployed in support of 12 Mechanised Brigade, whose principal infantry units were the Royal Anglians and the Grenadier Guards. Duncan returned as captain of aircraft, initially flying with Squadron Leader M. Oxford who handled the navigation. He flew similar taskings and IRTs to his last tour, and at the end of the month flew on IRT support for Operation Chakush. The latter was a British-led NATO operation aimed at clearing the Taliban out of the area around Hyderabad and Mirmandab.
In early August, Duncan flew as part of a four-ship gaggle in support of a major four day offensive in the Upper Gereshk Valley. This culminated in some extreme flying, landing troops in a cultivated field of maize completely surrounded by trees in a very hostile and active area. Following this:
‘August 11th 2007 is a day I’ll never forget. Rich [Hallows, also known as ‘German’ due to his Aryan countenance] and I, together with crewmen Jim Warner and Bob Ruffles, were on the third day of a four-day stint in Bastion, which had been dominated by trips to and from Forward Operating Base Inkermann to extract a significant number of British casualties. The base, which was home home to ‘C’ (Essex) Company Royal Anglians, is situated about eight klicks north of Sangin and acted as a buffer between the town and the Taliban for whom it seemed to be some form of ordnance magnet.
Everyday was the same. Sometime between 13:00 hrs and 14:00 hrs, the Taliban would launch concerted attacks on the base, employing every weapon at their disposal. Those inside the base got used to a daily diet of recoilless rifle, RPGs, rockets, mortars and small arms fire, and in giving as good as they got, they took a number of casualties. In the two previous days, we’d recovered at least eleven troops, including the body of Private Tony Rawson, who had been shot dead while on patrol...
The morning of the 11th had been quiet... At around 13.30, just as we were arriving back at the IRT tent, the Taliban had launched another attack on the base and a mortar round had landed on a fuel tank, causing multiple injuries. An RPG had also found its mark, hitting an observation tower in the middle of the base, severely wounding Captain Hicks [David Hicks - the Company Commander}. We got the call just after 14:00...
I’m captain, so Rich and Jim head straight for the aircraft to get her spun up, while Bob and I head for the JOC to get the details. There is no need for us to wait for the Apache on IRT duty to escort us; the crew is already overhead at Inkerman helping out the beleaguered guys inside with some close air support.... I brief the crew as soon as I don my helmet and connect the pigtail.
‘It’s a bad one, guys. FOB Inkerman. We’ve got two T1s, four T3s and a walking wounded to pick up. The LS was still hot when I left the JOC and the Apache was letting loose with everything it has, so it could be interesting on the way in...’
‘OK, same drill as usual,’ I say as we climb to height. ‘No rank bollocks on my cab. I’m Frenchie or Alex, this is German, you’re Bob and you’re Jim. You have my authority to engage without reference if you identify a firing point. Clear?’
‘All clear, Frenchie,’ from the back.’ (Ibid) Having tested weapons en route, Duncan flew in through the Sangin Valley and awaited to be called in by the Apache:
‘The site is still hot as hell and we wait for a lull in the fighting so we can put down. The Apaches are doing everything they can to speed that moment along and are directing a huge weight of fire at the Green Zone. The 30mm cannon fire a stream of High Explosive (HE) shells earthwards and then they let loose with their flechette rockets... They are just the thing for the fuckers who are causing all the misery at FOB Inkerman.
The site is still hot, but we know there are seven casualties down there who are depending on us. The AHs are raining fire down to suppress the enemy below in an effort to get us in, so it’s in our hands.
‘Guys, we could wait ‘til the end of the tour for this LS to go cold. Are we all happy to make a move with it still hot?’
All three of them agrees. We’re going in. ‘Ugly Five Two, Doorman Two Four, request you keep the pressure on. We’re going in,’ I advise.
‘Roger that, Doorman. We’ll keep their heads down,’ I hear against a deafening live soundtrack of 30mm cannon fire.... As Rich sets up in the gate at 100ft and 30kts, the LS is still taking fire. Suddenly the Defensive Aids Suite detects a threat. Some sort of weapons system has engaged us and the DAS has picked it up.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! It fires out a series of flares. ‘60ft, 30kts,’ I say as Rich brings the nose up.
Jim and Bob take over the talk-down and within seconds I feel the rear wheels land on. ‘Two wheels.... six wheels on,’ from the back.
The ramp goes down and the doctor heads out to meet the troops who are already with the casualties and heading for the aircraft. At the front, Rich and I are busy scanning everything and doing all the checks we can so that as soon as we get the nod, we can lift; we know the crewmen are busy and they’ll signal to us to get the hell out of Dodge the minute they can...
I look down and see a pair of feet in the 2ft narrow ‘corridor’ that leads from the rear of the cab to the cockpit. Something’s wrong though; they belong to an ANA who is laid on his back and his toes are pointing down towards the floor, not up as they should be. Both ankles are broken.
I catch Jim’s eye. ‘This guy’s in a bad way, mate,’ he says. ‘I’m just putting a tourniquet on him and it’s my tourniquet cos we’ve run out of them in the back.’
www.dnw.co.uk
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