Groups and Single Decorations for Gallantry
the SAS Sergeant was now in no doubt about what was at stake. Their aim, it was perfectly obvious now, must be to take the town. And that must meant taking us. Then in the back of his mind he remembered Aden; his thoughts paused on what had happened to Robin Edwards and Nick Warburton, the two SAS mendecapitated in the Radfan in 1964. And Bennett assumed that if the Adoo were allowed to overrun Mirbat, then the nine-man BATT team would suffer the same fate.
It’s a fair distance, he thought. The Adoo commander was on the limit of the SLR’s effective range, but Bennett was sniper-trained. He had a clear line of sight, there was no wind and he had a static target. He raised the rifle and took aim, squeezing the trigger and… crack… the stock kicked into his shoulder.
Missed, he chided himself, as the guerrilla continued pushing his men forward towards the fort. He took a breath then steadied himself and let the sight settle on his target. With the gentle squeeze from his index finger, the SLR cracked and recoiled again. Damn. The rebel remained in action; still straddling the wire; still rallying his assault force.
But Bennett wasn’t the sort of character to get needled by it. He was too cool, too experienced for that. He’d just take the next shot. He controlled his breathing, shut out the chaos of the battle raging around him and focused. Everything slowed down as he applied the smoothest of pressure to the rifle’s trigger; the only part of him that wasn’t completely still. Half a mile away, his target was unaware that he’d been singled out. The SLR jerked back as the 7.62mm round was fired down the length of the barrel, ripped into a fine spin by the rifling within. It left the muzzle at a speed of over 2,700 feet per second. A moment later, still travelling faster than the sound of the report from the gun that fired it, the sharp nosed bullet speared its target. The Adoo leader buckled and fell; another one of the bodies hanging like washing along the taut wire of the fence. But there were plenty more to take his place.’
Meanwhile the two Fijian SAS men, Laba and Takavesi were fighting a desperate battle of their own in the gun-pit, Laba eventually falling mortally wounded and Takavesi being also seriously wounded.
‘Standing at the bottom of the BATT House stairs, Captain Kealy was now faced with the pivotal moment of his military career. It was one of the toughest decisions any officer will ever face, regardless of how long they serve. There was a major crisis at the gun-pit but who should go? He quickly summed up the situation. “I don’t like it. It’s gone too quiet. Something’s happened over at the fort. If we lose the gun we’re in deep trouble.” He had already made up his mind. “I need a volunteer to come with me.”
The great tradition in the SAS right from the early days is the ‘Chinese Parliament’, a meeting where all voices are equal. They all knew that Laba was already injured and judging by the silence, Tak was also down. Immediately, everyone volunteered, with both Pete Warne and Bob Bennett arguing that they should go instead of the young Captain. Tempers were short but Kealy’s mind was made up. This was the moment he was about to go from being Captain Kealy to Boss Kealy. His argument was pure cool logic.
Pete Warne had to stay as he was the number one radio operator and their link to the outside world. With Laba out of action, Bob Bennett was now second in command and would be the man to run the battle once Kealy was over at the gun-pit. Bob was also the best man to direct the mortar. Of the three specialist medics, two were otherwise occupied so Tommy Tobin was the obvious choice…
Once Kealy had made his decision, Bob Bennett smiled and told Kealy that, if he insisted on going, he had better put his boots on before he set off. Like Tak, Mike Kealy still had his flip flops on, but unlike the Fijian, Mike was no rugby player.’
Dodging a hail of lead, Mike Kealy and Tommy Tobin somehow made it to the gun-pit, where they found Laba dead and Tak seriously wounded propped up against the edge of the gun-pit still firing his rifle. Tommy Tobin immediately set to work administering first aid but was himself shot and mortally wounded performing this courageous action. The enemy were closing in and the situation was desperate. It was imperative that the 25-pounder gun did not fall into enemy hands or it would be immediately turned on the BATT House and all would be lost.
‘With this in mind, Boss Kealy did something beyond all normal bounds of courage. Knowing how vulnerable they were in the gun-pit he called Bob Bennett and said, “Drop the mortars round the gun!” He knew the risks and so did Bob. The rebels were now so close that Fuzz Hussey could not fire the mortar on its tripod. Instead, he had to hold it with one arm wrapped round it so he could pull it back and rest it against his chest. With the other arm he then had to drop the mortar down the tube. This made it even harder to get an accurate shot off.
Bob Bennett could see how close the rebels were to the gun. Something needed to be done. He shouted down to Fuzz, “Put the rounds as close as you can to the gun!” Fuzz Hussey already thought the world was going crazy and this confirmed it. He thought, “What kind of a fucking fire order is that?”
If Fuzz Hussey got it wrong he would kill his boss, his close friends, Tak, Tommy Tobin and Walis Khamis in the gun-pit. But still he went for it. The mortar flew through the morning air and dropped thirty yards north of the gun, near where the rebels were gathered. Fuzz Hussey was one of the great mortar men of his generation and this was the finest round he had ever fired. It scattered the rebel forces - they had never expected anything like that.’
The turning point in the Battle of Mirbat came with the arrival of Strikemaster Jets from the Sultan of Oman’s Air Force followed on the ground by the relieving force made up of members of G Squadron, Special Air Service Regiment.
Peter Warne and Takavesi, gives some account of this and Bob Bennett’s part in directing the air strike in SAS, The Soldier’s Story, by Jack Ramsay:
Peter Warne: “Get on the set and call for reinforcements,” Bob said, amazingly calm. My resolve stiffened even more, if possible, by the death of Laba, I ran back down to the radio room, keyed my call sign again, got the acknowledgement and sent the bad news: 'Laba dead. Sekonia VIS. Tobin VIS. Situation desperate. Send reinforcements. Over.'
A hesitation, then I was asked to send a wet rep [weather report]. I yelled in frustration, jumped up and looked out of the door, saw the limp flags and the low cloud and reported back. No sooner had I got back on the roof than we saw two Strikemaster jets breaking through the cloud. They streaked at about 80 feet over the town. Roger appeared at the wall. He had been controlling them. He thought a casevac chopper was arriving and he was directing it with his small air-to-ground radio. Instead the jets had appeared.
“The seventh cavalry has arrived,” he yelled, and disappeared. Bob grabbed the radio. “Hello, Red Leader,” he said. “This is Batt House. Enemy left and right of the fort. Over.” The voice of the pilot crackled back a “roger”. 'How long have they been going at you?” “Since dawn.” It was now 0815 hours. “Roger, Batt House. They’re like ants down there. I can see hundreds of them.”
The adoo now turned their attention to the jets as the first strafing runs were made. The first jet went into a vertical dive, spraying the left perimeter fence; the other put two rockets into the wadi to the right Then they came back again with bullets, rockets and a 500- kilogram bomb loosed into the wadi to the east of the fort. One of the jets was hit in the tail section and limped away. The other made one final run and then it too was off. The jubilation was short-lived, however, because now we could hear firing behind us to the east. The adoo had regrouped and were counterattacking.
Then came two more Strikemasters on strafing runs. Bob directed them to Jebel Ali and the back of the fort. “It looks hot down there,” said one pilot. “Roger, Red Leader,” said Bob. “Sheets of lead.” The jets disposed of the sangars on the top of the hill, then rocketed the top of the hill until it disintegrated, then they came back to the fort and strafed the adoo with rockets and tracer.’
Takavesi: ‘In the gun pit I thought the screaming of the jets was the best sound I had ever heard. I looked at the sky and I could hear the roar of the jets coming in and I think that's the only thing that saved us at the time. I overheard Bob Bennett telling the pilot on the radio : “I say, look, just fire whenever you can or hit the fort.” They came more or less right on top of us. The pilots were briefed to fire willy-nilly, just to hit the side of the fort. Anything to the other side of the fort towards the plain was enemy, anything on this side towards the coast was friendly forces. They came in very low, I'd say about 50, 100 feet and I'm sure the pilots could have seen everything. It wasn't over, though. I could see figures on the eastern skyline about 2,000 metres away, a disciplined-looking bunch. I lined the front sight blade on the leader. Okay, maybe I was down to single shots, but a single shot was all I needed to get rid of the officer leading them. Bob was following my gaze. We waited, then he told me to go down again and get a sit rep from base.
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