On patrol with the Royal Marines in Afghanistan
The Highlander
By Chris Terrill
Last Updated: 2:04am GMT 16/02/2007
British forces in Afghanistan have been fighting the Taliban at the
strategic Kajaki dam this week. Film-maker Chris Terrill is spending a
year with the Royal Marines and has just returned. Here, in a powerful
dispatch, he tells how the soldiers, including one since killed in
action, engaged the enemy
Jan 1 2007: 21.00
"Listen up guys!" says Second Lieutenant Bertie Kerr. "We leave
tomorrow at dawn. Get some 'scran' down your necks and then get some
sleep. I want you up at 04.00. We leave at 04.45."
I am in Kajaki, a remote outpost in Afghanistan's war-torn Helmand
province with a troop of Royal Marine Commandos taking shelter in a
deserted police compound. It is dilapidated - shot up and mortared to
hell by the Taliban - but at least there are some walls intact to
shelter us from the chill night wind. Tomorrow at dawn Eleven Troop is
to launch an assault on a nearby enemy stronghold.
We crowd round a fire and take it in turns to heat up our
boil-in-the-bag bacon and beans in a gigantic kettle we found here –
everybody calm but thoughtful. "It's my 21st birthday today," says one
gigantic Marine called Thomas Curry, but known to everyone as
"Vinders" (as in Vindaloo).
"Twenty one! Bloody hell what a way to spend your 21st, eh?" says
another Marine offering Vinders his hip flask. "A slug of single malt
to celebrate Royal!" "Cheers mate".
"Congratulations Vinders," says the grinning Lt Kerr, the troop
commander - a whole two years older than the birthday boy. "Oh, and
happy new year too!"
"Cheers boss!" says the huge Marine.
"You know what though," he adds. "I really wish I was at home with the
girlfriend right now going down the pub..."
Once outside of our bacon and beans (and a tiny drop of whisky) we
crawl into our sleeping bags for a fitful sleep. In the distance is
the unmistakable sound of small arms fire. Kajaki is Mad Max country.
Lawless. Dangerous.
Jan 2: 04.45
"OK lads. Let's go. Move!" whispers Lt Kerr. Twenty silent silhouettes
depart the police compound. It is two hours before dawn and
unspeakably cold. A three-quarter moon, nearing the end of its lunar
watch, hangs low in the starry Afghan sky. Its tired beams lend the
vaguest purple definition to a sleeping, rocky landscape.
"Keep to the shadows guys," says the young second lieutenant through
his headset. "The Taliban could be anywhere." He speaks with the
authority and confidence of a natural leader, although, at 23, it is
barely three weeks since he passed out of training as a Royal Marines
officer. This is his first command and here in Kajaki he could not be
at a sharper end of the conflict in Afghanistan.
The men of Eleven Troop move slowly and silently forward, snaking
through the moon shadows in single file. They hold their SA80 assault
rifles in full readiness. There is no bunching - each man keeps 30ft
behind the one in front just in case someone steps on a land mine, is
hit by mortar fire or struck by a rocket propelled grenade. That way
only one man is killed or wounded at a time and not several. Commando
warfare is very pragmatic.
I take my position in the line, combat helmet on head (clearly marked
with my blood group), Kevlar body armour on chest and back, tough Lowa
boots on feet and thumping heart firmly in mouth. The only thing I
have to shoot with is a camera, although on my belt I have a
substantial six-inch Buck knife newly sharpened - just in case. Little
use I know against an AK47, the preferred weapon of the enemy, but it
makes me feel better.
We are on a mission. And it is unquestionably dangerous.
Eleven Troop is the spearhead of a full company assault on a Taliban
stronghold known as The Shrine – not actually a shrine but a piece of
rocky high-ground just north of the Kajaki river and the nearby
strategically vital Kajaki dam. For months the Taliban have prevented
the dam's hydro-electric turbines from functioning by scaring off
workers and hijacking any road traffic attempting to get to it – a
situation the Royal Marines want to reverse. As part of this strategy
the orders are to take The Shrine, destroy any enemy that resist and
show the Taliban that there can be no hiding place from British
troops. Altogether 100 Royal Marine Commandos of M Company are
attempting this daring, early-morning assault but Eleven Troop is
"point" troop. That means we will be first to the target.
Under the cover of darkness, we climb the steep southern slope of The
Shrine, stopping just short of the summit. Lt Kerr consults his
sergeant, Pete McGinely, as well as his corporals "Sully" Sullivan and
"Jacko" Jackson. He then issues a whispered order to the troop through
his headset: "Go firm. We wait here till it gets lighter". Twenty men
seemingly melt into the rocks.
06.25
A pale morning sun reveals a bright beige landscape. "We're bloody
exposed here," Lt Kerr whispers over the radio as the summit of The
Shrine proves closer than expected. All the safety catches on the
SA80s remain on but the weapons are all made ready - that means there
are bullets in all the barrels ready to fire. "Keep low lads," he
says. "Don't skyline yourselves. The enemy's out there somewhere." We
crouch low, wait and watch.
06.45
"Crack, crack, crack."
"Jesus - we've been spotted!" shouts Lt Kerr. "Incoming – take cover!"
The innocuous, glowing pink streaks just above our heads are in fact
deadly tracer bullets and they are getting lower as the Taliban aim
improves. "Keep your heads down lads!" The "crack" noise turns into an
ominous whistling buzz – the sound a bullet makes when passing close
to your head. Marines call this an "Afghan bee" – and right now there
are swarms of them all around us. We push our bodies into the dust.
Around me I hear another sound – "Click, click, click" – the Marines
are fixing bayonets.
We remain pinned down on the exposed upper slopes of The Shrine but
are gradually managing to crawl downhill. "On your belt buckles lads,"
says Lt Kerr. "As soon as we get low enough and into dead ground we
can make a run for protective cover. There we regroup and establish a
firing line."
He is constantly assessing the situation and seems totally in control
– losing his cool only momentarily when an Afghan bee nearly takes his
ear off. "F***!" he says, not unreasonably, as further bursts of enemy
tracer scar the now brilliant blue sky.
08.40
The incoming fire does not let up but now we know that Ten Troop at
the base of the hill has opened up with everything it has in order to
draw the Taliban fire. We need air support as well but have been told
it will take time to arrive.
"Ok Lads! Go for it! Down to the ridge!" shouts Lt Kerr. I get to my
feet and join the desperate sprint for safety and for the first time,
with my back to the bullets, feel really vulnerable. Every step of the
way to the cover 200 yards away I expect to feel hot lead rip through
my back. It doesn't. We make it. We regroup.
09.40
Lt Kerr has established a firing line just above our defensive
position and Eleven Troop starts to lay down effective fire at the
enemy. But the Taliban have dug into a strong position themselves and
are returning disconcertingly accurate fire.
Marine positions far behind us fire a series of mortars over our heads
to lay down a screen of smoke that will help cover our movements.
But then - the sound no one wants to hear. "Thud!" the sickening noise
of a bullet against bone and flesh is followed by a muted scream.
Right next to Lt Kerr, Marine Richard Mayson is hit. The bullet has
gone through his wrist, shattering the bone, and there is a danger of
serious blood loss.
Lt Kerr immediately helps tend the wounded Marine. With him is Marine
Hoole, who instantly whips out the morphine from behind Mayson's body
armour and jabs it straight into his upper thigh. They then proceed to
apply a field dressing. "Soon have you out of here mate," says Hoole
to the shocked casualty. "Look on the bright side mate and think of
the dits you can spin down the pub. The birds'll be all over you!"
Despite the intense pain Marine Mayson smiles at the prospect. Minutes
later Sgt McGinely helps Mayson down from the hill to safety and
evacuation.
10.05
To everyone's intense relief an Apache helicopter arrives to fire a
Hellfire missile at the Taliban position. It's a direct hit. Eight
enemy are dead and the rest flee. We immediately advance and
consolidate the position.
The rest of the day is spent checking not only the nooks and crannies
of The Shrine but also numerous deserted compounds to the north that
are used by the Taliban to fire from and conceal weapons and
ammunition.
We proceed carefully checking for booby traps as we go but all
surviving Taliban seem to have fled - at least for the time being.
There is still a long way to go before the Kajaki district and its dam
can resume normal life and purpose.
The main town of Tanghei, once a bustling and thriving home to a
thousand people is completely deserted. Today's fire fight has not
been the first in the area and will certainly not be the last. The
Taliban will be back - perhaps in even greater numbers.
Jan 14: 02.51
I am back in London and the phone rings. It is Lt Kerr's mother Lou.
She has just heard from her son who called to tell of his most recent
action just the day before.
He and his troop had stormed an enemy compound but the Taliban were
waiting and opened up with a hail of fire. One member of Eleven troop
was killed instantly. My heart jumps. Who was it?
It was "Vinders", the strapping Marine whose birthday we celebrated on
New Year's Day. When he was killed, the rest of Eleven Troop carried
on fighting until they had won the day even though they were also
battling their own grief. Thomas Curry was just 21 and 12 days.
"Bertie wanted to cry too," Lou Kerr tells me. "But he knew he could
not - he had to keep his tears for later.
"That's quite something for a 23-year-old to come to terms with isn't
it?" Yes, I think and for Bertie Kerr the loss of Vinders would have
been the greatest test of his leadership skills to date. Eleven Troop
need him now more than ever before. And he needs them.
- Chris Terrill's series on the Royal Marines will be shown on ITV
later this year.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Brave birthday boy who died
Last Updated: 2:04am GMT 16/02/2007
Thomas Curry was a courageous young man who lived life to the full and
had proposed to his fiancée Carla Maynard by telephone on Christmas
Day, just a fortnight before his death in Kajaki.
Family, friends and fellow soldiers all paid moving tributes at the
time.
His father Martin said: "He was always very determined and would never
back down all through his life. He was a hero to his family, friends
and now his comrades. He loved being a Marine - it was what he wanted
to do."
His commanding officer, Lt-Col Matt Holmes, said: "Tom died displaying
the qualities so typical of him, and that had rapidly earned him the
respect of his colleagues. He was at the front, courageously closing
with the enemy, with no thought for his own safety, just that of his
colleagues close by."
Comments
Compare this fine young man with the pictures regularly shown on TV
'news" broadcasts of the morons mugging and robbing in the slums of
our major cities. I have yet to see the reports of Vinders and his
fellow Marines and the fighting they regularly are called upon to do.
Posted by Ron Naylor on February 16, 2007 3:42 AM.
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