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April 21, 2004, Scotsman IN THE DESERT DARKNESS, ARGYLLS' TRAP IS SET Gethin Chamberlain "LISTEN up, everyone," says Second Lieutenant Robbie Grieve. "If there is a casualty and it's a big contact then you have to leave him, guys. I know it's difficult, but when it's over then we will go back and deal with it. Try not to panic - remember, it's your mate there who might be dying." Lt Grieve is standing in front of a group of soldiers from the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders in a small commandeered bedroom in the Riverside headquarters that the regiment's A Company has established on the western bank of the Shatt al-Arab waterway north of Iraq's second city, Basra. The men crowded into the room to listen to their orders for the night's mission crouch or sit on the floor in front of the white board on which Lt Grieve has sketched out the plan. He surveys the young soldiers in front of him. They will leave at 22:00, he says. The road is flat, winding and dimly lit. There are a number of villages along the way and they are relatively hostile. Keep switched on, he tells them. The enemy forces are large in number and fanatical in their religious beliefs. We don't know where they are, he says, but we do know they possess AK47s, mortars, RPGs [rocket-propelled grenades], and improvised explosive devices. Their morale is high due to their religious beliefs. They believe that nothing can touch them because of their belief in God. Outside the Riverside base, the canal and the reed beds running alongside its eastern edge are in darkness, and the palm trees on the far bank have merged into the night, but there are lights on at the massive power station just to the south. It is quiet tonight, but those inside this little outpost, from which the British troops are training up the new Iraqi Civil Defence Corps (ICDC), have seen more than their fair share of action in the past few days. Lt Grieve has a shrapnel wound on his arm from the night when his Land Rover was hit by two RPGs. As it rolled over, his attackers opened up with automatic weapons. He could see the rounds flashing past his face as he crawled out and he and his men made a fighting retreat. Only last night, a small explosion went off next to Captain Andy Bayne's Land Rover as he drove back from a patrol. He and his men escaped unhurt, but it has given them an idea for tonight's operation. The preferred method of ambush for the rebels in this part of the country is to use a detonator fastened to a highexplosive artillery shell, which takes out one vehicle in a convoy, and is followed up by an assault with automatic weapons and RPGs from the dead land at the side of the road, or from one of the many small villages that sprawl along the highway. Either last night's device failed to go off as planned, or it was intended to test the reactions of the British troops. When they went back to check, there was nosign of a shell, so the thinking is that this was a trial run and that the militia will try a full ambush in the next few days. The Argylls plan to use a lure to draw them out tonight, and then catch them unawares. The lure is this patrol. The vehicles will speed past the spot where last night's explosion took place, to alert any militia in the area to their presence. The militia, so the plan goes, will come out to ambush them on their return. But instead of heading back in the vehicles, the soldiers will be there, silent, on foot, working their way up the sides of the road to catch the ambushers unaware. It will be a joint operation - Argylls working alongside the ICDC. The aim is to catch, or kill, the ambushers, but it is also intended as an exercise to demonstrate British tactics to the ICDC. Lt Grieve is running through the final details of the plan. If they see the enemy, they are to call out: "Army, stop or I shoot." If the target runs away, they are to give chase. If they are ambushed, they will engage the enemy. The commanders are to keep a tight rein on the ICDC to prevent them from accidentally shooting a British soldier. The ICDC men will all be wearing light sticks which glow in the dark to identify them to the British soldiers. Capt Bayne's men will hang back ready to provide a quick reaction force to charge in if the trap is sprung and the troops on the ground need to get out in a hurry. "Remember," says Lt Grieve, "it is still pretty dangerous out there. We need to be switched on ." In their Barouki barracks, the ICDC are heading off to the rendezvous at the Campbell Barracks, their new base built with $400,000 of United States cash. In their darkened Riverside base about ten minutes' drive away, the Argylls clamber into their open Land Rovers, four men in the back of each, two in each vehicle standing up to provide top cover. They pull out of the Riverside, and on to the highway. At the Campbell Barracks, ICDC and Argylls form up. The language barrier makes it harder, neither group is quite clear what the other is saying. They talk at each other, using hand gestures. "You lot are bullet fodder, that's why you are wearing those things," says one soldier, pointing to the light sticks in the ICDC tunics. But they don't understand. Driving north, the vehicles stop just before the point where last night's explosion went off. If the militia are already waiting, there is no point in everyone getting hit. The drivers speed off to set the trap; the rest of the soldiers work their way along the edge of the road. Bringing up the rear is Captain Gordon Adamson, second in command of A Company. On foot, they make a far harder target to hit than a vehicle, he explains. Spread out along the road, the patrol sets off, about 20ft between each man, on either side of the road. It is a dark night. What sounds there are come from the crickets and bullfrogs croaking in the shallow pools that lie by the roadside. To the right are scrubby bushes, to the left just open ground. The villages lie up ahead, just a few lights twinkling in the distance. The air is still warm enough to make the soldiers perspire in their heavy body armour. A vehicle is approaching and everyone stops and crouches down by the side of the road. Capt Adamson points his rifle towards the approaching headlights and squints through the night-sight, but the driver is undeterred by the sight of the soldiers training their weapons on him; he speeds past and after a moment the soldiers are back on their feet and moving forwards again. Now there is a village, houses on both sides of the road. The sound of barking dogs cuts across the steady chirruping of the crickets. If Capt Adamson is nervous, he gives nothing away. "If it is going to happen, it is going to happen", he says. A man cycles past, singing to himself. The soldiers stop and watch him through their sights. "Salaam aleikum," Capt Adamson says. "Salaam aleikum," the man says. Peace be with you. Now the patrol has reached Route 6, the main highway between Basra and Baghdad. It is slow progress, stopping every few minutes to check out approaching cars, or to check on a suspicious movement, or to scan the surrounding countryside. Long minutes go by just crouched low in the dirt, waiting for someone up ahead to give the all-clear over the radio. Over the radio comes a warning to keep an eye on four men hanging about in a doorway. The men smoke cigarettes. They stay in the doorway as the patrol goes by. Now the entire patrol is on the ground. The radios are out and they cannot communicate any longer with the quick response force. The joke among the men is that although the radios are old, they can't be retired because they never worked. They lie on the ground for three, four, five minutes. An attack could come at any time, but it doesn't. They get up and walk on. A few moments later, there is the sound of heavy engines and the lights of a convoy come into view. The soldiers go to ground again. As it gets closer, they can see that it is a British military one. Transporter after transporter rumbles past, each carrying a Warrior armoured vehicle. As the last escorting Land Rover passes, Capt Adamson pulls himself to his feet, trying to knock off the ants that have been crawling up his leg for the last however many minutes it was. But the night is not over. The patrol had been right; the militia were planning an attack. A few kilometres further down the road, the gunmen were waiting. As the big Warrior convoy went past, they opened up with everything they had got. The soldiers fired back, and the convoy got through, but it was another sign that the trouble in the north is spreading. "They're organised," says Capt Bayne, "and they're getting more confident."
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................................................................................................................. Copyright ©2004 Gethin Chamberlain. All rights reserved. |
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