GROUPS AND SINGLE DECORATIONS FOR GALLANTRY The weather did not abate the fighting, and that evening Duncan was called out on IRT to Sangin:


‘I speak to Neil, the pilot of Ugly Five Zero, our Apache escort for this shift, and we discuss tactics should we be called out after dark. The solution is crazy but it’s the only way - flying in close formation so that I can hang on to the AH’s tail lights while he flies using his cab’s FLIR (Forward Looking Infrared). The Apache’s 36-times magnification FLIR camera can see over 2,000 metres through the dust; it’s not perfect but it’s better than my Mk. 1 Human Eyeball, which sees nothing in these conditions. My prayers go unanswered; we’re called out to Sanguin at 19:20 to an ISAF soldier who’s been shot in the stomach. As we lift all I can see are the AH’s position lights, but even that’s hit and miss and, when I’m flying just 30 metres from Neil’s, I lose sight of it. I get him to switch from infrared lighting to normal position lights on. I can see him again. I can’t see the ground, I can’t see the horizon, all I can do is try to keep the Apache’s lights in the same position in my windscreen.


We transit at 400 feet above ground but it’s so dark I can’t even tell how close we are to the Apache. I ask Neil to advise me of the range between my aircraft and his using the AH’s radar and when he tells me, I’m shocked. I think I’m close but I’m 500 metres away; I think I’m way back but I’m 30 metres aft. Not ideal when our wings are rotating at 400 mph on each aircraft; the idea of what would happen if we touched each others’ wings is unthinkable.....


It only takes 30 minutes to approach Sangin but it feels like 30 hours. Neil has arranged for infrared mortar rounds to be fired from the PB to give us some illumination; it should provide enough light for pour NVGs to perceive, but it’s so dark that even with this mortar illume we can’t see the ground. It’s so desperate that I request that the camp turns all vehicle lights on. I start the descent following Neil on the way down. Through 400ft, no sign of the ground. 350, 300, 250, 200, 175... I can see some faint light ahead, but there’s still no sign of the ground. As we pass through 150ft I am just able to see some water reflection in the light from the IR mortar.


I manage to control the aircraft in a slow hover-taxi even though the disorientation is total and I can’t see how fast we’re moving across the ground. I continue low and slow and, eventually, I find the camp, skip over the fence and land on. We wait for the casualty to be loaded. ‘Phew!’ Mick Fry, my No. 1 crewman, says.


‘You know, Frenchie, I’ll always back you but I think this time we found the edge of the envelope!’ (Ibid)


Whilst loading the casualty, the crew was requested to make another pick up - this time a ISAF soldier wounded by an IED on top of a hill. Duncan accepted this mission, but was forced to abort as the visibility had reduced to 150 metres. Having made another difficult landing back at Bastion, they were requested to go out again and return to Sangin to collect the ISAF soldier who had been moved there:


‘We are all in shock after our last sortie. I’m shaking, adrenaline coursing through my veins.... Neil’s gone off shift, so I want to brief the new crew on what tactics we’re going to use. Turns out that the new crew includes Captain Steve Jones, a guy I’ve enjoyed working with throughout this Det - we have some good banter going, which helps to boost the crew’s confidence.


When we set off again, conditions have deteriorated and the visibility is even worse. However, I’ve a frame of reference now so I have some idea of what to expect - and I’m more than aware of all the disorientating tricks my mind might play on me.’ (Ibid)


Working to the same method as before, and keeping within two wingspans of each other, Duncan and Jones progressed slowly but surely towards the landing site. However, the conditions had deteriorated even further causing them to overshoot:


‘I look right and notice Steve’s Apache is really close to us, so I turn left by twenty degrees to increase the separation. When I look again, though, he is closer still. This induces something in me called ‘the leans’, which can occur when you have no visual reference for the horizon; without it, the balance organs in my ear tell me that I’m turning right, even though I know I’m turning left. I feel as if I’m falling out of my seat, so I concentrate on the head-up display in my NVG monocle and my visual reference to the artificial horizon clears the problem.


I look right again and despite my turn left, Steve is closer still - there can’t be more than one span between us! I call him over the radio: ‘Check your heading mate!’ and he corrects. It turns out that when he saw some lights pass under his aircraft, he thought they had overshot Sangin, got disorientated, looked down at them and up again, and he got the leans too, which caused him to turn to the left because it felt straight and level to him.


While all this is going on I see some faint lights ahead. We pass through 200ft and we’re still not visual with the ground, so I move ahead of Steve’s Apache and call visual with what appears to be the camp, intending to make the approach. At 100ft, I finally get eyes on the ground and that’s when I realise that the lights aren’t those of the landing site! I notice a flag painted on the wall ahead bearing the symbol of the Afghan National Police. We are hovering just outside the door of Sangin’s Police Station!


I check the GPS and realise that we’re east of where we should be and instead of being over the PB at Sangin, we’re just south of a place called Wombat Wood, which was a favourite firing point for the Taliban. There we are in the hover just 20 feet over one of the most dangerous places in Helmand Province! Realising this, I quickly get my bearings, crosscheck with the GPS and hover-taxi the last half mile to the camp, where I once again hop us over the fence and on to the LS where the casualty is promptly loaded on board.’ (Ibid)


Duncan managed to negotiate his way back to Bastion without further incident:


‘The events of that night proved a salutary lesson for all of us in the crew - that out here, you don’t always have to face the enemy to find yourself confronting fear. The weather we faced was sufficiently bad that it saw all other flights grounded, so I suppose the obvious question is: was it worth the risk in us being deployed? So far as we were all concerned, the answer has to be yes. Us fighting our way through the gloom meant that a six-year-old child was treated quickly, and survived; the ISAF soldier we picked up would have died had we not got to him when we did, and the other ISAF soldier we hooked up kept his eyesight. Against that backdrop, it was worth it all and more.’ (Ibid)


Duncan came under fire again, whilst flying a series of taskings on 15 December 2010. The attack took place whilst flying over the Green Zone, east of the Helmand River, when the Chinook took rounds to the engine, and a RPG exploded outside the port door. Despite multiple system failures Duncan managed to nurse the stricken Chinook back to Bastion:


‘Luck seemed to be with all of us that day, but none more so than Mick Fry. The RPG that detonated next to the aircraft caused the port door to cave in, burn marks to the side of the aircraft and shrapnel that tore through the root of one of the blades on the aft head. It exploded at the precise moment Mick stuck his head into the cockpit. Had he stayed where he was, he’d have taken the full impact of the explosion and would almost certainly have died.’ (Ibid)


A week later, Duncan had completed another tour and was back in the UK. He carried out his fifth and final tour of operations in Afghanistan from August 2011. It was to prove another eventful tour, with Duncan’s helicopter taking rounds during the first week (a round passed through the rear cabin just missing a passengers head), and then him flying a mission (despite just coming off duty) to rescue a stranded Chinook crew who had been shot down six miles short of Bastion. He returned to the UK in October, having flown 170 hours in two months - the equivalent of a year’s flying in the UK.


Duncan was invested with his A.F.C. by the Prince of Wales at Buckingham Palace, 14 February 2012. This time he managed to get invitations for his entire crew. Duncan subsequently advanced to Squadron Leader and was posted to the Command of the Oxford University Air Squadron:


‘I feel I have given 110% to combat ops in the Afghanistan Campaign but I know that I am not indispensable - there are plenty of younger, more talented pilots ready to take on the role and fly into the face of the enemy. By day or by night, in good weather and bad, they will take the war to the Taliban and perhaps more importantly, risk all to pick up any ISAF soldier needing assistance. To the crews, that is the most important part of the Chinook missions and as long as British and ISAF soldiers remain on the ground, the Chinook force will be ready to respond whenever and wherever they need us.’ (Ibid)


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