Chapter Forty One

Aerial Patrols from Basra

The air base, being the HQ of the British Army in the war zone of southern Iraq, was very active as the sinews of war were replenished. The large transport aircraft (Boeing C-17 Globemaster and the Lockheed C-130) were a constant presence on the main runways delivering the required military supplies. The large Nimrod aircraft was also much in evidence here also. Based on the Comet passenger plane the Nimrod was equipped with very advanced electronics housed in the bulbous nose and tail. In Iraq it was used to pinpoint Iraqi insurgents and direct troops in Lynx and Merlin helicopters to deal with them. Twice I saw a fighter over the base but it did not land. Instead it made two low passes over us at tremendous speed. Like the scenes in the film Top Gun the noise was deafening and the ground reverberated to the scream of its engines. I wondered if the pilot would suffer for his piece of apparent bravado. Finally, there was a large fleet of various helicopters tucked away at the northwestern corner of the base apron. These performed a ground support role for the army.

A Boeing C-17 Globemaster Cargo Plane taking off from Basra.

The VC-10 acted as a troop carrier and it brought in regular loads of fresh troops and ferried home those who had completed their tour of duty.

The helicopters were operated at the western end of the complex. The Lynx was the smallest in size but it was an ideal workhorse especially for counter insurgency and medivac work. There is a large sliding door at each side giving access to the cabin. In Basra one side sported a machine gun and a seat for the gunner. On the other side was a seat for three observers. It can also be used to accommodate up to nine equipped troops. The Lynx was not entirely suitable for conditions in Iraq as it was susceptible to the Iraqi midday heat in the summer months that restricted its lifting capacity and endurance. One of them was shot down by an insurgent’s SAM (Surface to Air Missile) some months after I left Basra. I felt this was inevitable as the Lynx flew very low due to many of its operational requirements.

The Merlin can accommodate up to 24 seated or 45 standing equipped troops. It is used for more serious conflict situations. The Chinook can carry 55 equipped troops or two mechanized vehicles and can also lift heavy equipment slung underneath.

When my work took me into the desert I was allocated a Lynx helicopter to get around. So armed with a flak jacket, helmet, binoculars, camera and earplugs I set off. I was advised to wear heavy clothing as it would be extremely cold when flying over the desert at speed with all doors open. We took off and usually turned west. We could see the immensity of Basra Army Base, home to 5,000 soldiers beneath us as we ascended. Away to our left at the southern perimeter of the base a lone white aircraft that looked like a Dakota DC-3 sat abandoned. On our way to our target transmission line we passed over the scene of the recent war, with the desert pockmarked where the Iraqi armour and artillery dug in to defend their homeland from the coalition invasion. We crossed many irrigation canals, the result of Saddam’s destruction of the marshes, home to the Marsh Arabs. These people were now forced to live in isolated villages usually near one of the irrigation channels. It was difficult to imagine anyone willing to live there not to mind educating their children to equip them for a life in the wider world. I was flying over the land of the Babylonians and Sumerians near the ancient cities of Uridu and Ur. This was where Abraham, prophet to the three major religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam lived out his life. The Egyptian Pharaohs with their armies crossed and re-crossed the desert beneath me and Alexander the Great died nearby from malaria as he surveyed the Shatt al Arab.

Waiting to board my Lynx.

Some Marsh Arabs in their ancient mashoof.

Most of my flights were to survey the condition of the transmission lines that involved flying very close to them and examine them with my binoculars and note down any damage as we hurtled along. I found that the RAF pilots were not inclined to go too near the transmission lines unlike the pilots of Irish Helicopters Ltd who flew right next to the lines as I surveyed them for both maintenance and storm damage patrols in the 1980s, back in my time in the Irish Electricity Supply Board.

However, the Irish pilots were flying the small French Alouette II a very nifty machine while the RAF pilots were using the much larger and more unwieldy Lynx.

One day I arrived at the helicopter base with my associate Flip Labuschagne and Major Larsen, my Norwegian liaison officer, and boarded a Lynx. Our gunner, a blonde lady tied our safety belts, connected us into the helicopter’s audio system and we were airborne in minutes. We had been patrolling along a transmission line, inspecting the condition of the transmission masts for about 30 minutes when I spotted a convoy of three pick-ups racing along a desert track miles from anywhere. Two of them were armed with anti-aircraft guns. These were wicked looking objects with barrels about three metres long. The pilot radioed to Basra Base and we were told to keep them in sight until help arrived. This we did and they raced across the desert and when they could not shake us off they eventually stopped.

Close-up of one pick-up showing huge machine-gun.

Photo source: Flip Labuschagne.

We could see the occupants inside the pick-ups’ cabs looking up at us. We then started to circle around them with our seats tilted towards them and with no door in front of us we felt very exposed. I prayed that they had no ammunition for their guns and imagined an anti-aircraft shell tearing up my rear end. After what seemed an eternity of circling and praying we saw a Merlin helicopter speeding towards us with a full complement of well-armed troops. None too soon as we were running on fuel vapour. We had to seek fuel and fast so we made for the American Air Base Talil and came under control of the US Tower of Camp Tallil. We were ordered along a defined line six feet off the ground and ordered to stop at the end of the line. Then we were directed along another line. This sequence re-occurred a number of times, as the RAF pilot became increasingly disenchanted of his US allies. We passed some Italian Navy Augusta A-61 helicopters and an Italian Army Ch-47 Chinook. Behind the Chinook I saw the famous Ziggurat of Ur in the background. The Ziggurat is actually within the perimeter of the air base. Eventually we were allowed to land and a fuel truck raced up. As we unwound when the Lynx landed Major Larsen tapped my shoulder and pointed to my safety belt. It was opened and so was his. Our pretty gunner must not have known how to tie them securely. We were not impressed as 10 minutes previously we were circling, facing our armed pick-ups at an angle of 450 with no belt, no door and at least 1,000 feet of prime desert air in which to free-fall without a parachute.

The ancients believed their gods lived in the heavens or sky so they built huge temples called ziggurats (from the Akkadian word ziggurratu meaning ‘high’) where they got nearer to them and worshipped them. A sanctuary or temple was built on top of the ziggurat where they believed the god resided and from where they could observe the heavens, the territory of all the gods. These were in effect the first observatories. The most famous is the 4,100 year old Great Ziggurat of Ur built by King Shulgi and dedicated to the moon god, Nanna or Sin. The façade has now been restored but the remains of the original structure can be seen protruding from the top.

Ziggurats became part of the heritage of most civilized people and Saddam Hussein capitalised on this knowledge to protect his air force during Operation Desert Storm in 1991. He reckoned Coalition targeting policy would seek to avoid hitting or damaging the major relics of the past so he parked some of his MIG 21 jet fighters in the shadow of the Ziggurat of Ur.

Saddam parked some of his MIG 21 jet fighters for protection in the shadow of the Ziggurat of Ur.

Photo: From slide no. 8 of a US Department of Defence Pentagon briefing on WMD.

When my time in Basra came to an end I arranged to travel to the RAF base at Brize Norton on an RAF VC-10 troop transport and then to complete the journey home by Aer Lingus from Heathrow. It was the end of Ramadan and the insurgents wishing to celebrate let it be known that they would bring down the troop plane that night. With the other prospective passengers I was asked to report to the Departure building at 9.00pm hours. We were processed in next to no time and were asked to wait. I remember that the latest Harry Potter film was put on to entertain the waiting troops. I thought the choice of film, essentially a fairy story, was bizarre if not downright cynical for men who had put their lives on the line for ‘Democracy’ for six months. The film finished and we still waited. Eventually at 2.00am we were led out on the airport apron and boarded the aircraft. As it was a military plane all seats faced the rear. The soldiers were armed and it took some time to stow their arms and secure their safety harness; finally we sped down the runway. All lights were out as we took off in pitch darkness with two helicopters escorting us, one on each side. They had been patrolling the surrounding desert for hours with their night vision and thermal systems to ensure there were no insurgents around. When we got off the ground as per standing operational orders the plane corkscrewed its way up to a height safe from SAMs and kept within the airport perimeter all the while.

All the passengers were minimally showered as there was a water scarcity in Basra and the shower protocol was Naval – Wet, Soap and Rinse. After our water rationed period in Basra and the fear induced on the take off the aircraft fairly reeked as it straightened out and made for the West. As we faced the rear in the plane we were held in place by the safety belts that cut into our tummies as the aircraft made its almost vertical ascent. Our queasiness was not helped by the realization that our cargo hold was full of munitions. As we flew northwest the plane was buffeted by a storm that covered most of Europe. Our first stop was the RAF Akrotiri base at Cyprus, where we were delayed three hours as the pilots, unhappy with the aircraft’s trim in the stormy conditions, required the dangerous munitions cargo to be redistributed more safely. Some of the troops tried to sleep on tables in the dining hall while others sought the cooling wind on the terminal’s balcony. We underwent another three-hour delay when we landed in Germany as the munitions were again redistributed.

The storm had now developed into a major one that engulfed Western Europe as we neared Brize Norton RAF base. The angry cross winds of the storm tossed us from side to side as we made our approach. I tried not to think of the munitions in the hold while I blessed myself as we dropped altitude. Three times on our landing approach we were within 100 feet of the runway and three times the pilot gunned the aircraft to full power to circle and try again. Eventually we diverted to Manchester International Airport and after two attempts we landed there. An ambulance pulled up in the driving rain and a wounded soldier was off-loaded from the plane on a stretcher and into the ambulance that sped off. The aircraft was then directed to a remote runway to wait for weather clearance from Brize Norton. After three hours this eventually arrived so we made back and after a further two heart-stopping attempts to land we settled on terra firma. I got a taxi to Heathrow and just managed to get an Aer Lingus flight. I must have been reeking to high heaven, after six weeks in the desert and 15 hours in the RAF transport, judging from the disgusted looks I received from my adjacent passengers as I landed in Cork and made for a very welcome shower. My sojourn in Iraq was over.