May 2010 – The IED

It was ironic Malik thought, as he watched the bomb maker at work. Most of the ordinance for the IEDs that were doing so much damage were from the Coalition’s own devices. There was great rejoicing amongst the fighters when the enemies’ shells did not explode. They were seized upon by the Taliban and spirited away for reuse. As the bomb maker was doing now. Quietly fashioning a crude explosive.

Basic it may be, but the damage it could inflict was great. The Coalition forces had been made to change their tactics. Diverting resources towards clearing minefields. Putting extra reinforcement on their armoured vehicles. But still, enough of the IEDs hit their target to cause death and catastrophic injury. And to instil fear in the invading Infidel troops.

This device was a little more sophisticated than the Taliban usually employed. It had a remote controlled detonation mechanism. The success rate with these remote devices was higher, than with the pressure activated IEDs. But it wasn’t always possible to find the right equipment for the bomb makers. Also, it would need close quarter contact with the enemy in order for it to be activated. Which was more dangerous for the jihadis.

It needed someone who knew how to operate the equipment, being in the line of sight of the target. This IED was to be placed tonight. And Malik’s mahiz was required to stay with the operator for the next day. Their first job was to act as a guard for the man and to help him escape safely. The second was to try to take advantage of the chaos that the IED would cause. Hopefully kill a few more of the despised foreign invaders, as they fled in panic.

Dawn on the following morning found Malik taking his turn at watch. The best observation position was lying flat on top of the mud roof of a small hut. From this vantage point, Malik could see the gully where the device had been placed. The ditch had been cut through an area of green vegetation and trees. It was a verdant zone, in sharp contrast to the ubiquitous grubby greys and burnt browns of the local countryside.

It was the job of the man on watch to check for enemy activity. Then rouse the others. There was no guarantee that any troops, even if they arrived, would go anywhere near the buried IED. In that case it would be mission aborted. Their orders would be either, to stay and try again the next day, or to retrieve the bomb and move to a different location. It all depended on the intelligence that the Taliban received from their Afghan spies, who were deeply embedded in the ranks of the foreigners.

It was dull work. But Malik had seen enough action to know that a state of constant alert was essential. Too many cases of death and injury had been caused by inattention and laziness. He yawned and stretched his legs out behind him. Suddenly, a slight movement caught at the edge of his peripheral vision.

He snapped his eyes in that direction. Peering intently through his binoculars, a scene began to unfold. At first all that could be observed was just bobbing helmets. Then as he became more familiar with the landscape, he began to make out the advancing soldiers. A quick count revealed ten, or maybe more. Scrabbling quickly backwards across the roof, Malik called down quietly to his mahiz commander.

A few moments later, there were three of them lying side by side on the top of the hut. The bomber was holding the detonator out in front of him. The commander had the binoculars, and his gaze was fixed on the approaching enemy troops. After a few minutes, he raised his left hand quickly in the air, paused for a few seconds and brought it sharply down. The bomb maker pressed the button a second later.

The sound of the explosive blast boomed through the air, followed by a cacophony of shouting from the troops below. Malik knew his job now. He climbed swiftly down to where his comrades were crouched. Two men remained behind with the RPG launcher. The rest followed Malik as he raced out of the mud compound, and towards the direction where the enemy had been seen dispersing.

This was a hazardous time. Malik had been in many firefights like this and there were nearly always casualties. But it was the best time to inflict damage on the Infidels. They were not familiar with the location and the effects of the IED would have caused disorder and confusion in their ranks.

The crack of rifle fire whistled through the air and Malik dropped rapidly to the ground. Keeping his head down, he waited for the noise to subside. After a few moments, the intensity of the attack had eased and he felt able to raise his head. The rest of his mahiz had disappeared. Presumably they had gone round the wall he could see just in front of him.

Picking himself up, he set off in a zigzag run to follow the course he hoped the rest of his group had followed. Rounding the corner at pace, he was stopped dead in his tracks. There in front of him were two of the Infidel invaders. At the far end of the courtyard, one of the men was kneeling and facing in the opposite direction. His rifle trained on some unseen target inside the house. But a second tall soldier was staring straight at him.

The man’s face was a little chubby, and his hair the strangest colour that the Iraqi had ever seen. It resembled wet, red mud. The whole world seemed to slow down as the enemy in front of him started to raise his rifle. But Malik was an experienced fighter and got there first.

The head with the red hair snapped back as it caught his bullet straight between the eyes. The body thumped into the ground. Malik was shifting his aim towards the second soldier when a shell exploded in the courtyard. The shockwave knocked him to the ground and his weapon was thrown to the floor.

Recovering from the blast of the shell, Malik could see he was in a precarious position. The second soldier had been farther from the impact of the incoming round, and he had whirled round, his weapon pointing straight at the Iraqi.

His eyes were wide open in a wild, confused stare. Malik had fought before at close quarters and could guess that this guy was inexperienced. Maybe there was still a chance of getting out of this without being killed or captured. An unusual silence seemed to have enveloped the scene. But, in a few seconds, a faint whooshing signalled the arrival of another shell approaching from above.

Both the combatants heard the noise simultaneously. The foreigner reacted first. His weapon dropped as he jumped on Malik and threw them both to the ground. As they rolled over, the ordinance exploded right beside them.

Malik felt hot shrapnel rip through his back. The pain exploded inside his brain, which responded by shutting down. Unconsciousness welcomed him to its dark embrace.