Glacier 2’s mission was to destroy the Taliban’s main forward operating base in southern Helmand – their Camp Bastion. It was a giant, high-walled rectangular compound, 200 metres long by 100 wide, on the banks of the Helmand River where the Green Zone borders the GAFA desert in the west. It certainly looked the part of a sinister enemy hang-out. It was extremely well fortified, with stone and adobe walls ten feet high and three feet thick, and guard towers at each of its four corners. It was known locally as the Jugroom Fort.
Jugroom was originally constructed centuries ago to defend the area from a river-borne invasion. Nobody knew exactly when or by whom. Alexander the Great might have had a hand in it, for all the locals could remember.
With the river to its south and a canal running close by its western wall, the fort had lush poppy fields to its north. A deserted village stood along its eastern flank; the locals had moved out long ago, and only returned during the hours of daylight to tend the fields.
It had been pinged as a target early on during the recce; every time ground troops passed anywhere near it they received a ferocious volley of fire. From the air, the Nimrod MR2 footage revealed that the guard towers had been recently reinforced, and were permanently well manned. It also confirmed that the place was of huge tactical importance to the Taliban. Just as we were airlifted into Camp Bastion from Kandahar air base – our initial arrival point in the country – so their fighters were moved up from Koshtay to Jugroom on the next stage of their journey to the front line. There they would be rested, fed, equipped and briefed, then pushed forward to individual battlegrounds: Garmsir, Sangin, Musa Qa’leh, Now Zad and Kajaki – wherever they were needed. Our knowledge of the base’s layout was patchier. Inside was believed to be a command centre building, several barracks blocks and a large underground weapons cache.
Force 84 was initially offered the job of taking it out. But the SBS said it was too big for them. You didn’t hear a full squadron of Special Forces guys saying that too often. It wasn’t their type of target and they didn’t have the firepower if it turned into a big scrap. The planners were undeterred. The intelligence suggested there were no more than twenty to thirty enemy fighters inside the fort at that time. It was midwinter, so the number of new arrivals would naturally be down.
Colonel Magowan planned the operation from deep within the Desert of Death. The plan was an excellent one. He didn’t just want the fort – he wanted to dispatch as many Taliban as possible along with it. Magowan’s Fragos – Fragmented Orders: the fragments of the operation that the pilots needed – were read eagerly by Nick, FOG, Charlotte and Tony.
The scheme of manoeuvre was simple: first, the place would be pummelled relentlessly with a massive bombardment from fast air and artillery. It would begin at midnight and last for four hours. An incredible total of 100,000 lb of bombs dropped by B1s would test the Taliban’s resolve. If they still wanted to stay around and defend it after that, the fort would be every bit as significant as the colonel thought.
Then, at 4am, he would launch a ground assault, move into the fort, and effectively plant an ISAF flag on its ramparts – a red flag to the Taliban’s raging bull. They would counter-attack with all available manpower – probably with their trademark encirclement manoeuvre. Zulu Company would then withdraw swiftly just before dawn – leaving the Taliban fully exposed. Magowan’s pièce de résistance would be to send in the Apaches to pick them off and identify any hidden bunkers they attempted to escape into, so fast air could close them down – for ever.
Instead of the SBS, the assault would be done by the 120 Royal Marines of Zulu Company, 45 Commando, with supporting fire from 105-mm light-guns and the Scimitar armoured vehicles of C Squadron, the Light Dragoons.
3 Flight got the specifics for their part in the mission from the Detailed Tasks and Timings section of the Fragos. They were to be on station at 0330 hours local. The bombardment would cease and they would be cleared into the target. Their initial mission was to destroy any Taliban seen on or attempting to escape the fort complex. Their ‘Be Prepared To’ task: to provide close-in fire support for Zulu Company as they moved into the fort. 3 Flight’s final mission: to destroy any remaining Taliban when Zulu Company withdrew back across the river. They were then to return to Bastion, rearm, refuel and be prepared to redeploy to the fort to cover the troops as they pulled back into the desert. The Annexes to the Fragos contained the usual aerial photographs and sketches of the fort, along with a list of enemy vehicles known to operate from it.
‘It looks like someone’s done their homework for this one,’ Nick said approvingly.
There were no call-outs for the IRT / HRF on Sunday, the day before Glacier 2 was launched. It gave me a chance to catch up on a mountain of paperwork – as mind-numbingly boring as I always found it. Time not fighting was time wasted in my book. But the Boss had encouraged me to write a paper for a new type of thermobaric Hellfire that I was after, and I’d finally made a start on it. If Monday was quiet, too, I just might be able to finish the bloody thing.
On Sunday night, the Boss had gone over to Kandahar for a meeting with the regiment’s new Commanding Officer. Geordie backfilled his place on HQ Flight, as he often did. The four of us woke up as usual at 6.45am on a chilly but crystal clear Monday morning. We were in the special IRT / HRF tent, fifty metres from the Ops tent. I’d had my shower and shave, and was sitting on my cot bed doing up my boot laces and ribbing Geordie about missing his hairdresser’s car when the insecure Motorola radio crackled into action. It was 7.05am.
‘Superman – Batcave – Roadrunner.’
It was Comic Heroes theme week for the radio codenames. Superman was code for the IRT, Batcave meant the Joint Helicopter Force Ops Room, and Roadrunner meant as fast as your legs can carry you. Carl and I were the IRT that day. I grabbed at the radio.
‘Superman to the Batcave: Roadrunner.’
In twenty seconds, we were up and over the Hesco Bastion wall on our homemade ladder and into the Ops Room. The watchkeeper was waiting for us.
‘It’s a Casevac, guys. A single Apache to protect a CH47 down to Garmsir.’
The drill was well practised by now. Without another word, Carl ran straight out and jumped into the Land Rover. His job as the pilot was to get down to the flight line and flash up the aircraft immediately. I snatched my Black Brain from the secure locker, and with Billy now at my side, I ran onto the Joint Operations Cell tent next door to get a better idea of what was going on.
‘It’s a busy morning.’ The 42 Commando 2i/c looked stressed. ‘The yanks have had a serious RTA in Nimruz province. They rolled a vehicle and have got two T1s and two T2s. It’s a benign area so we’re sending two Chinooks out to them; there’s only one left here now. It’s the stand-in Casevac and it’s going to Jugroom Fort; that’s the one you’re responsible for.’
He gave me a grid for the Chinook’s landing site.
‘How many casualties?’
‘Five.’
That wasn’t good. They shouldn’t be taking casualties more than three hours after the ground assault was supposed to have gone in.
‘All gunshot wounds,’ he added. ‘Don’t know what state they’re in yet.’
‘Why aren’t the two Apaches down there going to protect the CH47?’
‘They’re busy fighting.’
Billy and I gave each other a knowing glance – here we go again. The Taliban weren’t giving up Jugroom Fort without a proper ding dong. Things were obviously not looking too good, but whatever the problem was, I didn’t need to know about it. We just needed to get that Chinook down there sharpish.