After we crossed the border we didn’t know quite what to
expect. The Americans had crossed some days before us and
although things had got a bit exciting at Saferon Hill, on the
whole they had met only limited resistance.
On the first night after a long vehicle move into Iraq we
laagered up on the side of a road and awaited further orders.
It was a strange feeling knowing that I was now not part of
an exercise but really in a hostile country where the enemy
could attack at any time and from any direction. It was not
a good night's sleep marred further by the fact that early
in the morning (about 0300hrs) we got the one and only NBC
alert of the war and spent the night trying to sleep in full
protective kit.
The next day we moved north on orders and spent the day passing
burned-out shells of tanks and armoured personnel carriers
that the Americans had seen to. As it grew night we came under
our first contact of the campaign. Four Platoon were contacted by
dismounted gunmen dressed in civilian attire. After a short
contact things calmed down and we got into night-time routine.
This was the first indication that this wasn’t going to be the war we had
expected as the enemy were adopting different tactics. Were we
ever going to get a decent night's sleep?
The next two weeks were spent carrying out the tasks of Brigade
Reserve. These tasks involved Prisoner of War handling and
Site Guards of key locations. Although there were sporadic contacts
the majority of the time the problems that we faced were from
looters. They would take anything and were very ingenious in
their methods of gaining entry to guarded locations.
All the time we were carrying out these tasks, other Battle Groups were meeting
resistance in Az Zubayr, a town south-east of Basrah, and Basrah itself.
Although at this time we weren’t directly involved we still saw and heard
the Artillery and Mortar fire going in each night from our
side and on numerous occasions were on the receiving end, though to be fair the
incoming was never that accurate but it still made for a sleepless night.
It was while we were at a small airfield to the south-west of
Basrah we received orders that we were moving forward to
relieve another Battle Group on the outskirts of Basrah.
Our tasks here were some of the most demanding of the campaign, performing
Vehicle Check Points and intelligence gathering. The worst part
was that we were now even closer to the enemy mortar firing
points and now we had to factor in the Rocket Propelled
Grenade (RPG) and small arms fire that we were taking. We
stayed on the outskirts performing these tasks moving forward
slowly for about a week, gauging the enemy and trying to pinpoint the enemy firing
points. When a firing point was found either the Artillery,
Mortars or even the Challenger tanks were brought down to
bear onto it very quickly and it was removed but as we were to find out later on there
were stockpiles of RPGs and mortar rounds left in the street and normal civilians were being bribed
or paid to take up arms against us. The result was always the same, they would suffer the losses.
It was strange that although it was just like being on exercise albeit where
the threat was very real, the strangest part was that everywhere we went there were reporters. There were
occasions when their zeal for a story perhaps over-rode their
responsibility to act sensibly. This could make life very difficult
for us. Indeed, this happened to me on the main VCP outside
Basrah. We were under orders to restrict access of any male
of a fighting age and check vehicles coming and going from the city
as they were using the cars as transport for weapons and money. At times you would have
up to 2000 people trying to get into the city and after being turned
back they would set up camp by the side of the road and wait for the restrictions
to be lifted. On the whole they were peaceful and understanding
of the situation and were glad to see us there but when
the Press turned up things sometimes got a little tense.
There were always troublemakers in the crowd but if ignored they would soon get the message that we weren’t going to rise
to the bait. With the presence of, and interaction with,
the Press they would often become more vociferous and
bellicose. All I can say is it’s a good job that the British Army
are the world leaders in dealing with situations like these
what with all the training we do for places like Kosovo and
Northern Ireland.
On orders we moved into Basrah and for about 48 hours it was hard and intense but it soon died down.
It was at this time that Number One Company and the Irish
Guards suffered its tragic loss of Lance Corporal Ian Malone
and Piper Christopher Muzvuru. It really
brought home to us that we were
truly at war and not on exercise. It knocked everyone
sideways but in true “Mick” style we raised our
game and got on with the job in hand. We were now into
Basrah and we weren’t leaving until the job was
done. After the occupation of the three Battle Groups
in Basrah the hostilities started to fade out quickly. We
were
soon into berets and carrying out the age-old British Army
task,
winning the hearts and minds of
the local population, and with no surprise the Irish Guards excelled
at this.
We were still having contacts but these were
on a small scale and due to the patrolling of the area by
dismounted troops and the rapport
we were striking up with the locals we were getting better
information
on where incidents were going to happen so that we could
pre-empt them. The locals had had enough of oppression and
were
starting
to help us by passing
information to clear out the remnants of the old regime.
We protected the banks which were targeted by not only the
Fedeyeen
but also the local gangsters and even the local people.
They soon got
the message and
very quickly stopped trying to rob the banks because
they were guaranteed a Mick patrol on the position within minutes.
The
best feeling I personally had was with how Basrah changed
during my stay. On arrival there
was no electricity, no running
water and everyone
was off the streets by last light due to a curfew imposed
by the old regime. By the time
I was leaving, the streets were packed with families
going on walks in the evening, the shops had all re-opened,
the electricity was back on so all the streets were lit
up
with
fancy lights and people were smiling.
It made
it all worth it knowing we had made a difference to
the lives
of these people and although it wasn’t the war
we expected to be fighting when we crossed the border
only 4 weeks before, the Irish Guards had again (as
they had done so many times before) risen to the
challenge and done the Micks, past
and present, proud.
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