Chapter 1

It was day thirty-one of our Ninety-day tour of the sandbox. So far, we had only done half a dozen routine night patrols. We had also taken part in one ambush on a Taliban convoy, our snipers including myself had wreaked havoc on them before our American hosts had gone in to finish them off. We had claimed thirty kills between us that day as well as giving the ragheads a few wounds. There had been ten trucks and over a hundred Taliban soldiers and very few of them had escaped our attack.

We had woken at 05.00 hours and done out PT, a 10K run followed by a series of exercises to keep us in tip-top condition. We were being billeted in the corner of a huge American base. It was our second time here and we loved it as the yanks had great food and great facilities. The noise of the helicopters that seemed to be coming and going all day and night soon became a background blur.

After our PT session, we all hit the showers, when I say all, I mean the guys in my brick. A brick is a four-man team that we work in in the SAS. There were four bricks in the camp plus some Rupert’s (that is what we in the SAS call the officers) and a couple of armourer’s/ logistics guys.

We showered and dressed before hitting the canteen, the food was good, and you could eat all you wanted. I down a glass of fresh orange juice before I got stuck into a plate full of scrambled eggs on toast, with beans and sausages and a huge mug of coffee.

The coffee on British camps was always crap, the yanks made great coffee. I sat with the lads in my brick. We all had nicknames and never used our real names, there was Big Guns, also known as BG or guns, he was our sergeant and leader of the brick. All SAS guys have been in the green army. You have to pass selection and only the best gets in, that’s why it’s still the best regiment in the world. The selection process is the toughest in the world, no matter what the yanks in delta force and the seals said.

Big guns or guns as he was known had been in the Royal Artillery plus unlike most SAS guys, he was a gym bunny and he had the guns to prove it, so guns for the muscles and guns for his time in the artillery. He was a couple of years older than the rest of us and had been in the regiment for seven years. Most SAS guys were mega fit, short and wiry but not muscle-bound. Guns was the odd man out.

There was Doc, he was the team medic, so he was known as the doc. Then there was curly, he was our coms expert, when it came to radios, GPS and all that sort of thing he was the master. He was as bald as egg and thus he was curly. He was also one of the toughest bastards around and if there was hand to hand combat, he was the man to have in your corner.

Me I was the team sniper and they called me Rosie. That nickname had come from one of the instructors in Hereford. My name was Terry, someone called me T, the instructor was a cockney and T soon became tea and tea for cockneys is Rosie Lea, so I was Rosie.

Doc, Curly and I were all Ex-paras as were most of the guys in the SAS, it seemed a natural steppingstone to special forces. I had enjoyed the selection process, the forced marches across the Brecon beacons, the speed marching. All the tests, all the exercises were there to weed out the wanna bee’s and make sure that only the cream of the crop got it. The Instructors’ worked us hard, they beasted us, they forced us to work hard and then harder. I relished the challenge, relished the hard work. You came to make good mates, mates you could rely on, mates that would stand by you in a battle.

They made us march with a fully loaded bergen and then run with a fully loaded bergen, during nearly every day of the training course men dropped by the wayside and were RTU’d. Being returned to your unit was no shame, at least you had tried they kept telling us. Most of us just thought about it as a failure and most SAS guys have a really deep hatred of failure.

As I said I enjoyed the work they put us through even the infamous fan dance. The fan dance is a gruelling 24km march staged over Pen y Fan, the highest mountain in the Brecon Beacons. The infamous march is the world’s oldest Special Forces test and is used as the first major indicator of whether a candidate has the physical and mental aptitude to complete the legendary Selection course. Many a good man fell by the wayside during this test.

Then you did six months of squad training followed by six months of specialist training. I had always been a good shot and I was chosen to train with the snipers’ instructors, and I got really into it. They told me I was a natural, they taught me all I needed to know to kill from distance.

Once you had passed selection and undergone a year’s worth of training you were formed into a brick and went through more training with the brick. Jungle training, survival training, weapons training. Parachute training. First Aid, weapons training, counterterrorism we learnt it all.

You were then rostered into the active service team, and all the time you were not on a job you were training, perfecting your skills. It is true to say we worked hard and played hard.

Our brick was tight, we had been together for three years, we had done two tours in the sandbox as well as a few other tours, including Northern Ireland, we had also done some work for the DEA in South America. We had hijacked drug dealers, taken out drugs factories and blown up the planes that they used to transport the drugs. It was great fun, to be honest, there is something very exciting about blowing things up.

We worked well together and had had some good times both on tour and when we were given time off. The previous summer we had been in Cyprus for two weeks R&R, and what a time we had. Sun sand and sex plus plenty of booze.

We were all eating when one of the Rupert’s turned up. Captain Davis was a nice guy for an officer, he knew that we did our stuff and did it well. He kept us informed, he did the paperwork and he made sure we were well billeted and had all the kit we needed. It was all we asked of an officer.

“Guys we need you in the Intel tent in half an hour please” he smiled. He was all right for a Rupert.

The fact he said please was a step in the right direction.

“No worries boss,” we all said and watched as he headed out of the canteen tent In the SAS, we do not salute officers and we do not call them sir. It is a tradition, an officer is always a good target for an enemy, so we do not make a show of them. If you salute them the enemy snipers will be gunning for them, call them sir and the enemy knows they are an officer. We do not even wear stripes or any sort of insignia or badges.

“Looks like we might have some work boys,” BG said and speared a sausage before chewing on it.

“it’s about time we got a decent job,” said curly and Doc nodded his agreement.

“it’s been a while “I chipped in, we had been talking about it the day before, we were all itching for some real work.

We finished eating and all topped up our mugs of coffee before returning to our billet. We all grabbed our notepads and pens before heading over to the Intel tent. The Intel unit was totally made up of yanks, they had access to drones, access to satellites and all that sort of stuff. The yanks gave their intel guys a huge budget and it showed.

When we got to the tent two of the other bricks were already there, plus all the Rupert’s. The other brick came in a few minutes later and sat at the back. There was a bit of banter between the bricks, but we all got on well and we all respected each other.

There are no mugs in the SAS, no weak links. The hard selection routine and the harder training weeded out the crap. You had to be at the very top of your game to be on active service. We all constantly worked on our skills and our fitness.

The room fell silent as four American Intel officers came into the tent.

One of them plugged in a laptop and connected it to a projector. One of the intel guys stood up and we all sat up and tuned in. We all loved a good laugh, but we also knew when to be fully tuned in.

“Right lads, we have a tasty little job for you,” he said with a cheeky smile, “We have found what we think are Taliban training camps, there are four in all, they are well disguised, but the satellites have been working on them and we have some good footage.”

As he said it one of the other yanks started a slide show and we could all see images of camps. They were made up of old stone huts and tents. Image after image was shown. Few of the images showed men, you could see goats roaming around and the odd old guy that looked like a farmer or goat herder but no men you would say were Taliban soldiers. We knew from experience that did not mean they were not here it just mean they were well hidden.

“We are going to have to take them all at the same time on the same night as we are worried that if we hit one the others will close down and move on,” said the yank officer.

“How many Taliban do we think are in each camp?” asked sergeant Billy Bones the leader of Alpha brick. Each brick was named, we were Bravo brick or B brick, and the others were Charlie and Delta.

“We are talking about an average of fifty guys to each camp from what we can make out,” said the officer, I was sure his name was Nixon. He had been the guy that briefed us before we hit the convoy and we had found him to be trustworthy and accurate.

“So, four V fifty?” said BG and looked at the other sergeants. There were some knowing looks and raised eyebrows. The Taliban were hard fighters, and they were no mugs. They were trained warriors and they fought many wars over the years.

“Yes, there will be fifty of them but most of the guys in the camps are newbies, that why they are there to be trained up,” Nixon told us.

“It’s still fifty soldiers V four soldiers, “said one of the other team leaders.

The SAS are different to most regiments, the lads on the ground, the bricks will always decide if a job is too risky. The officers will always defer to the boys as the officers called them.

Captain Davis stood up and gave us all a knowing smile.

“Lads as always it’s up to you guys if you don’t feel right, we don’t go in,” he said.

“Why us and not a drone strike?” asked BG. It was well known the yanks have drones that were well armed and could fly in undetected and wreak havoc on the camps. They were equipped with rocket and machine guns, and they were hard to defend against.

“Good question, we need you to gather intel and evidence,” said Nixon, “there are more camps we are sure about that, but we are struggling to find them, and we want to get to them before they train up more of the Taliban soldiers plus, we know they have arms dumps, and we need maps or evidence”

“Okay but no prisoners?” asked Billy Bones.

“No prisoners needed or wanted “smiled Nixon. It was the smile of a shark.

The sergeants looked at each other and a knowing smile was shared between them.

“If we go in at night and hit the guards, we can lay some traps around before we open fire,” said Sergeant Jock Brown. We were all trained in demolition and knew how to use tripwires and stuff like that. It is amazing what damage can be done with C4, grenades and tripwires.

“and we will have the benefits of the NVGs, “said one of the troops from Charlie Brick. He was a Brummie lad and one of the top snipers in the SAS. He could shoot the balls of a fly at 500m.

Night vision goggles were a real game-changer that was for sure, as far as we knew the Taliban didn’t have access to that sort of gear and during night attacks, they would be a real help. If you can see the enemy and they cannot see you, you always have them on the back foot.

“Guys can we have ten minutes “BG asked the officers and they all nodded and left the tent.

We spent the next few minutes discussing the job we had been asked to do in true SAS style. We had a Chinese parliament, if you did not say anything during the planning stage you did not get the chance to bitch or moan if things did not go to plan.

In the end, all of the troopers said they were happy to go in, I think we were all battle hungry and eager to get stuck in. it was decided that we would all go in and then get close to the Taliban camps and go and get a better view. The attack would then take place the following night as long as the times on the ground were happy to go in. We decide that 03.00 hours would be the right time, it was the darkest part of the night, and the guards would be drifting off by then.

Billy Bones called the officers back in and told them were up for the task.

Captain Davis looked relieved and there were smiles from all the intel blokes.

We were split into our teams and each hand over to an intel guy, one brick and one Rupert for each intel guy. The intel guys took us to individual tents, and then they laid out the plan. We would have to carry in all the gear we needed so we would not be able to take our GPMG, the General-Purpose Machine Gun was a heavy bit of kit and needed two guys to carry it. I mentioned taking some LAWs Compact anti-tank rocket launchers but again it was a heavy bit of kit, and we would have a twenty-mile match from the drop zone to the camp.

If we landed any closer the Taliban spotters would see us, so we would land twenty miles from the camp and yomp in with all our gear.

So, our camp was known as camp T2, it was made up of six stone huts and a dozen tents. There were some great pictures and some really clear video footage. The idea was that we would be dropped off by helicopter around twenty miles away under the cover of darkness, then we would trek to the camp and gather info. The following night we would attack and then get out of there as fast as possible.

We looked at the maps of the area, it was flat, there was a dried up river bed that would give us good cover. There was a low hill to the right of the camp and that was covered in boulders and scrub. It would give us cover while we gathered more intel.

We worked as a team, and everyone was allowed their say. Each of the bricks gave their thoughts and then the Rupert and the yank intel guy asked questions and we worked over the plan, time and time again. Any little mistake, anything we might have missed could mean we failed in our mission and might mean we might die in the desert or worse be captured by the Taliban and be decapitated in front of a video camera.

It was a risky mission, and we need to have all the scenarios in our heads. The intel officer told us that for the last twenty nights there had been four guards. One of each point of the compass and one each for us to take out. The plan was simple, take out the guards. Lay some booby traps around the place and open fire. Take out the rest of the camp and look for intel before heading back to one of the four rendezvous points and once we were there, we would radio in for the chopper to take us back to camp for tea and biscuits.

If we got split up, we were told to head to one of the RVPs, the rendezvous points and use our GP transponder units to call in a pick up crew.

Once we had the plan in our heads, we drew up a list of the kit we would need, our own armourer had most of what we needed but the Americans would help out with what we didn’t have. We had decided to use some C4 explosive to create the booby traps and the Intel guys told us they would have it delivered to our armourer.

By the time we had all agreed and the battle plan had been lodged with the officers it was time for lunch.

We headed into the canteen and waited in line for food and drinks. I opted for a cheeseburger, fries, and a side of onion rings plus a can of coke. I wondered if there had ever been a US military base that did not have a coke machine.

We sat at a table on our own and ate in silence. We were all lost in our own thoughts. Once we had all finished Guns stood up and grinned at each and every one of us.

“Right lads we know what we have to do, we know what we need to do the job so let’s get to it,” he said, and we all stood up and followed him out of the ten. We went back to our billet and got our bergen sorted.

The first thing was to get the weapons and the demo gear, the armourer had everything we needed. We topped up on ammunition, we were all using different weapons, which was one of the things about the SAS each trooper, within reason, was allowed to use what he thought was the best to do the job.

Doc and I bother favoured the L119A1/A2 which is also known as Special Forces Individual Weapon or SFIW, with the optional grenade launcher.

Curly had the C8 Carbine and Guns preferred the M16.

We all had the same sidearm, the Glock 17 and all carried the Fairbairn–Sykes fighting knife. the Fairbairn–Sykes fighting knife had been the SAS knife of choice since world war two.

We also armed ourselves with grenades. Curly sorted out the com’s equipment, NVGS and GP units. I sorted out my sniper rifle and Guns sorted out the gear we would need for the booby traps.

My sniper rifle was one that all the snipers in our unit were testing, it was a three-piece weapon that broke down into a nice, padded bag and seemed to weigh bugger all. We had evaluated it in Hereford and used it when we had ambushed the convoy and it seemed a great bit of kit. It was made by Heckler & Koch and came with a built-in Schmidt & Bender sight that had a night vision as standard.

All of the guys were impressed with it that was for sure and it had proved effect at distances up to 600m. Once broken down the padded case can be attached to a bergen. It was light and easy to carry.

Doc then went to see the American medics to top up his supplies and I went to our logistics store and got some food packs and ammo.

Once we had all the gear we met back at our billet and shared out the gear, sharing the gear out meant that should we lose one of the bergens we still had three-quarters of the gear. as well as the shared gear we all had camouflage netting, a small personal medical, collapsible spade, some cold-weather gear and bits and bobs like that.

One thing we did not pack was clothes, we would not need them, would not have a chance to change plus we need to take as much ammo as possible. A change of clothes took up valuable space that could be used for ammo and ammo was more important than clean gear in a firefight.

The intel guy and Captain Davis came in whilst we were packing our gear. They waited until we had finished packing before telling us the choppers would be leaving the base at 22.00 hours.

Then we went over the plan again and checked the gear again. we did a coms check and programmed the GPs units with the coordinates of the camp and the four rendezvous points.

Then the officers left us, and we went to eat, we would need energy and eating was about topping that up. The other bricks were already in the canteen and there was plenty of back-slapping, handshaking, and fist-bumping as we joined the queue for food. It was more about taking on fuel than actually eating.

We ate and we chatted, and we took the piss out of each other. Maybe it was nerves maybe it was bravado who knows but it was what we always did.

Then it was back to the billet, and we went over the plan one more time and then checked the kit again. we all tried the radios with their throat mics and earpieces. Then we all checked our personal kit and webbing.

Doc went to shower, Curly and I slept, and Guns went to play cards with a few of the other SAS guys. Doc woke us at 21.00 hours, and we dressed in our desert camouflage gear.

We went to the helipad at 21.30 and met up with the lads from the other bricks. The intel guys and the Rupert’s were chatting, and the aircrew were checking the choppers.

Captain Davis came over with Nixon the intel guy and they both wished us good luck and shook us by the hand. A nice touch from them I thought. A dozen choppers were getting ready to take off, that was a bit of a red hearing for any watchers. We knew that the Taliban had watchers in the hills, and it would confuse them.

Billy Bones as the senior sergeant called us into a huddle and we synchronised our watches all of us including captain Davis needed to be synchronised. There were more handshakes and fist bumps all around and plenty of banter.

The aircrew finished their checks and called out to the ground crew to load us.

We all shook hands again with the other SAS lads, and then we boarded the chopper. We lay the bergens in the centre of the floor and we sat down on the net seats that were on either side of the helicopter. The door was slammed shut and the noise of the engines increased, and we took off and headed out over the compounds wire fence.

The journey took an hour and most of us slept, it is a trick that most soldiers perfect. To be able to kip anywhere anytime is important. We woke as the side doors were opened and cold air filled the cabin. The huge belt-fed machine guns were swung out and the crew scanned the ground for any movement. We each grabbed our bergen and got ready to make a move.

We could hear the pilots talking to the crew. We were nearly at our drop off point. It was pitch black outside and It was hard to even see the floor. We each put on our NVGs but left them turned off.

There was a light system, and we all knew that when it turned green it was time to leave the cabin and jump into the unknown. We all had our eyes glued to the lights, they turned from red to amber and we all held our breath. Doc and I were on the left side of the chopper, Curly and Guns were on the right.

Green and it was time to go...

We were all on the ground a second later and the chopper lifted and turned away before flying off into the night, within seconds it was gone, there was no audible or visible sign of it. I turned on my NVGs and waited, eyes closed, as the unit booted up. I heard the tell tail click and I opened my eyes. I had my L119A1/A2 ready and my bergen was beside me.

The darkness of the desert was all around us, there were no light sources at all out here.

We moved into defensive positions and then we lay still and silent for what seemed like hours but was no more than fifteen minutes, we listened for any movement. We knew that if the Taliban had seen the chopper, they would be all over us like a rash.

I heard Guns in my ear breaking the silence.

“Right lads’ group upon me,” he said.

I watched as he stood up and jogged over to the right-hand side of the clearing. Doc then formed up behind him, the curly formed up behind doc and I took the rear-guard position, it was our standard formation, and we never needed to discuss it. We each shouldered our bergens and got ready to move off.

We walked with our weapons loaded and ready for action, there was no telling if and when we would come across enemy combatants.

Guns had his GPS unit on, and he led the way, we walked in silence, the ground was flat, and we made good ground. After two hours we saw Guns drop to the ground and we all followed his lead. We lay on the ground for ten minutes, there was no movement nor was there any sound apart from wildlife moving around us.

He used hand signals to call us up to him, as we moved in, he made the hand signal for drinks, and we all took swigs from our water bottles.

“Everyone okay?” he asked between swigs of water.

“Yes mate,” we all whispered. We had been yomping as the British soldiers called marching, at full pace and we had made good ground. We needed to get in place before sunrise. We needed to be dug in and hidden from prying eyes.

Guns checked the GPS and then he glanced around at us all before fastening his water bottle to his webbing, it was the sign that we were heading off.

We walked through the cold desert for another two hours, it was mad walking under the stars knowing that the whole country wanted us dead, that they wanted to see us beheaded on a ‘you tube’ video for all the world to see.

A few months early whilst we were all in Serbia, we had made a plan, no man would be left alive for the enemy to kill and if the last man was in any danger, he would use his last grenade to take himself out of the game.

We had to take a detour when we spotted a goat herder and his goats. His cooking fire was still smouldering, and the heat source was a dead give-away. We skirted his camp and then used the GPS to put us back on the right track.

The NVGS gave everything a green glow and any heart source was easy to spot. You could see animals moving around, their eyes bright red and their bodies glowing green as they moved around, hunting, and scratching around for food. They moved away as they sensed us.

After another two hours, we stopped, we dropped to the desert floor and took on more fluids, even in the cold our speed marching left us with dry mouths.

“Right lads we are only six miles from the camp” he whispered, “So will move up until we are one mile away then we will find some cover and dig in for the day”

There were nods of agreement all around.

We walked the last few miles at a slower pace; we were on a constant lookout for any guards or even just any civilians. Most of the civilians carried a gun of some sort and they were all scared of the Taliban so would always make them aware if they saw allied soldiers. So, everyone in the country was classed as the enemy.

The sun was starting to light up the horizon when we were just over a mile away from the camp and we decided to set our camp up. We found a dip in the ground that was surrounded by huge boulders. There were thick desert bushes as well and they would offer us cover.

We decided it was the best place to set up camp for the day, there was a small stream a few yards away and Doc was sent off to fill the water bottles, he dropped purification tablets into them and gave them a good old shake. We all carried two bottles, one that we drank from and one that was purifying. We ate cold ration packs while we were covered in our camouflage nets. The food was crap, but it was eaten for fuel, we would need all the energy we could muster when the battle started.

The sun was soon high in the sky, we took it in turns, two on stag as we called the camp guards, and two sleeping. We swapped over every four hours. There was little movement, we saw some trucks moving around but they were at least a mile away and they did nothing to worry us.

The day was long and warm, no not warm it was bloody hot. We were all glad when the sun started to dip. We are more cold rations and Doc was sent to refill the water bottles.

Guns called us all together...

“Right lads once it’s dark Rosie and I are going in for a closer look,” he told us.

“How long should we give you?” asked Doc.

“Give us two hours max” Guns replied.

That meant if we were not back within two hours of leaving our makeshift camp the other two lads would head back to the rendezvous point.

We all headed back to our camo nets, and I stripped off as much of my gear as I could. I would only need my SFIW, my Glock and a knife. I made sure I had my small medical kit and some spare ammo for both guns, I checked there was nothing that might rattle or reflect light. Then I rubbed cammo cream over my hands and face.

It was half an hour later when I heard a click in my earpiece and then guns told me that we were going in five minutes.

We met up and waved at the others before we headed up the hill that would give us a good view over the camp. We walked in silence, making sure we never walked in open ground, silhouettes or outlines might give our position away.

We walked with our weapons ready, there was always a chance that the Taliban would have night patrols walking the hills. The NVGs would give us plenty of warning.

It took us half an hour to find a nice spot above the camp, we had to belly crawl into a thick thicket of bushes. I had the scope from my sniper rifle, and we took it in turns to have a good look at the camp.

It looked exactly the same as the satellite images, it was made up of six stone huts and a dozen tents. There were four guards, one at each compass point, they were all smoking. That was not good soldiering, they should have been moving around.

There was evidence of some camp cooking fires, those heat sources were mad. Any drone or satellite would be able to zone in on them and that was dangerous. It was good news for us though to be fair. It must have been how the Yank intel guys had found them in the first place.

We spent twenty minutes in that spot before moving northwards and having a good look at the camp from a different angle. Again, we settled into a nice spot, and Guns used my scope to check out the camp. The guards did not seem to move around at all, the lazy fuckers, and the glow from their cigarettes was a dead giveaway to their positions Guns took his time and only when he was happy did, he hand me back the scope. He made a hand signal to me that told me it was time to move on.

We circled the camp and spent some time checking the huts and the tents out. I glance at my watch and saw that we were getting close to our cut off point. If we did not leave soon, we would not get back to our camp in time the other lads would bugger off.