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31-3-2003 Daily Record WAR IN THE GULF: Pedro is first man in door.. he ducks as Iraqi grenade flies over his head By GETHIN CHAMBERLAIN THE tank crew spotted them first, four men in civilian clothes jumping out of a pick- up truck, carrying a rocket propelled grenade launcher. Corporal Mark Harvey was the first of the Black Watch snipers to react, dropping to his knee and fixing the man carrying the RPG in his sights. One shot, a moving target - but the militia man dropped like a stone, dead before he hit the ground. A clean shot to the head. The three others grabbed the body of their fallen comrade and pulled him into the bushes by the roadside, then took off towards nearby houses. But in the Challenger tank, their every move was being watched. As they ran into what they thought was the safety of the rabbit warren of ramshackle buildings in the heart of Al Zubayr, the sniper teams' radios were crackling in their earpieces, guiding them in. Moments earlier, the snipers had been sitting in a Warrior armoured vehicle waiting to set out for another day of waiting and watching, never relaxing as they waited for a target to appear. Now they were running towards the houses and the doorway into which their quarry had vanished. In the lead was Corporal "Pedro" Laing, SA80 rifle in hand. He reached the door and kicked hard against the woodwork. Inside, an old man looked up startled and was grabbed and thrown out of the doorway, past Corporal Mark Harvey and Lance Corporal Scott "Robbo" Robertson, who were hot on Pedro's heels. Inside the building, a militia man pulled the pin from his grenade and hurled it at Pedro's head. The corporal ducked and the grenade exploded in the street outside, fragments hitting Robbo on the legs. As Pedro got back to his feet, he looked up to see that the man in front of him had snatched up his AK47 rifle. As he hit the ground again, a burst of bullets whistled over his head. On his feet once more, he saw that the man had now grabbed the RPG launcher. Down he went again, diving out of the doorway, the rocket missing him by inches. It hit the embankment on the opposite side of the street, the explosion sending Corporal Harvey somersaulting over the mound of sandy soil. Later, he would realise that the fall had crushed a vertebrae in his back and that he could not stand up, but not now, not in the heat of the action. Jumping up, he fired one shot at the man now standing in the doorway, killing him instantly. Then Robbo and Pedro were in through the doorway, throwing grenades on the run, one, two, three, four, the tank outside pouring machine gun fire into the roof of the building. As the grenades went off, the pair opened up with their rifles, finishing off the militia men. For the snipers, it was a rare moment of hand-to-hand fighting, the closest they had been to an enemy they normally only saw through the telescopic sights bound in dusty rags fixed to their rifles. Eight days of lying in the dirt, crouched on rooftops, waiting to pick off the militiamen preying on their friends. Eight days and 17 kills. Among their number is Vincent Polus, 24 year old, a Lance Corporal born in Inverness and brought up in Glasgow. For Vincent, it is eight days and three kills, the rest of the time spent lying still for hours. Living off cold rations, no chance to light a fire, an empty plastic bottle and clingfilm serving as his toilet. He said: "Your eyes are on the target area all the time, you keep your eyes on that area. If a target comes into view you report it to command and ask permission to fire. "You have to get the breathing right, a couple of deep breaths then you start breathing again normally and as you start to release your breath, you squeeze the trigger. That's the moment you are at your most steady." The first time he fired he had been sitting stationary for three hours in a building near the town centre. Then the moment he had been waiting for, a group of men dressed in civilian clothes and a bodyguard carrying an AK47. Six of them in total getting into a pick-up. In his hideaway, Vincent spoke a few words into his radio mouthpiece, asking for permission to fire. Permission given, he adjusted his aim, checking the sights. Seven hundred and fifty metres, no wind. He began his breathing, two short and then one normal, the air beginning to leave his lungs, as he squeezed the trigger. Vincent said: "Through the sight I saw the bodyguard fall out of the truck and then the vehicle started to drive forwards. My sergeant put a couple of rounds into it but it was driving away. "I just kept watching and then the truck appeared again. That's when I shot the driver. "I couldn't see much because of the sun on his windscreen but I knew where I was aiming. I hit him in the head and he fell out of the side and went into a ditch." Nearby, Sergeant Mark Cameron was also waiting for his moment. Now the 31- year-old, from Brechin, seized his chance, firing twice at the passengers inside the pick- up, killing both. The others ran away, but four out of six lay dead. Mark Harvey is back in Cyprus now, evacuated out and lucky not to become the third British soldier to die in an RPG attack in the town. He, Pedro and Robbo are in line for a commendation for their bravery. The snipers climbed back into their Warriors for another day of waiting, another day in the fight to finish off the militia and make the town safe. And Mark Cameron wondered whether anyone back home will really be able to understand what they are going through, day in, day out, hunting down an enemy who can melt away in a moment, putting down his weapon and becoming just another face in the crowd.
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................................................................................................................. Copyright ©2004 Gethin Chamberlain. All rights reserved. |
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