The Battle For Echo 7-7 (Part One)

I'm going begin the story about the day I should have died.

I'm going to begin the story of how I watched my friend die.

Much of what you will read will not make sense at first. I will talk about people and places that will only make sense with future posts. This isn't a crude trick to hook you on my blog. I just I feel I need to get this day out there, for you, as it will help answer the most common questions you will most likely have.

For me, as I hope it will liberate me.

Map of our area of operations

Echo 7-7 was a compound to the east of Patrol Base Blenheim, where 2 Platoon had been for 4 months or so. 
We were the furthest westerly A Company call-sign in a string of PBs, picketing Route 611 between Forward Operating Bases Inkerman and Jackson.
I had spent two weeks in another compound, Hotel 1-8, that we had been occupying as an observation post (OP). This was mainly to prevent the Taliban from laying IEDs in a culvert that ran over the "611", but also served to restrict their freedom of movement.

For those two weeks my section, Hades 4-2 Echo, had been in contact almost every day. I saw my section commander get shot through the face and treated another lad who was shot through the leg.
I also saw our 4th fatality, Martin Kingett, suffer the wound that killed him. I was among those that fought to keep the enemy at bay while 2 Platoon evacuated him and Andrew Borthwick who was shot through the chest.

But thats another story for another time.

I was exhausted, filthy and emotionally drained. I returned to the Blenheim to find it a hive of activity. Most of the Company was there, along with counter IED teams and Engineer call-signs.

I was told the next morning we would launch an operation to occupy a compound to our south east and build a permanent OP. Much like Hotel 1-8, this "Mini PB" would dissuade the enemy from operating in the area around Blenheim. The compound was called Echo 7-7.

I called my girlfriend and my parents. I told them I was doing fine and that I felt good about things- we only has around a month left of the tour after all. I even told them I felt like "someone was watching over me". Go figure.

This would be the first in a string of actions that later, I would not be able to explain.
I packed my kit, and slept for an hour or so.

We left Blenheim early the next morning, while it was still dark. We went back to Hotel 1-8 and waited there for around an hour. We had to wait for other A Company call signs , including the other multiple from 2 Platoon, to move into compounds around '7-7. They would provide over -watch and flank protection, enabling the multiple I was a part of to conduct the strike.

 2 Platoon, A Company 4 Rifles

"The Mighty 2"

 
I caught up with guys in the platoon from 3 Rifles that relived us the night before. Two of them were from my platoon in basic training. What a way to catch up. We moved off and began climbing over compound walls and making our way up the slope to the next compound we needed to echelon through. 
We had packed for a long stay in '7-7 while the engineers built the OP. We were carrying some serious weight. I had around 1,500 rounds for my Light Machine Gun (LMG) with other members of the patrol carrying even more ammunition for me for me. It sounds a lot, but in a prolonged contact, you soon burn through it.

Members of our recce platoon were waiting in the next compound, this was our last stop before assaulting '7-7. While we waited I looked out across the open ground we needed to cover to reach '7-7. By now we were on the edge of the village that made up the "desert side" of the 611, the other side being The Green Zone. I'm sure many of you have heard that particular term.

But here, in the middle of a built up area, it was surprisingly green. There was a kind of miniature valley with long green grass we would have to move through it to reach the compound walls. It was a tense few moments, waiting to move into such open ground. Weighed down with kit and having to sweep for IEDs meant we could not cover the ground as quickly as we would have liked.

We moved out and began the descent into the dead ground of the miniature valley. Any second we expected to have incoming rounds landing everywhere. But they never came. We reached '7-7's tall compound walls and began to assemble the ladders so members of the IED team among us could sweep the roof.

The roofs of Afghan houses were ideal over watch positions and provided good cover. They resemble the stone houses from the first Star Wars film, with undulating "humps" that reminded me of corrugated iron. The troughs in between these humps would later save my life.

We began to climb the ladder, with it bowing under the weight of us and our kit. I even helped up the Springer Spaniel sniffer dog up. As soon as we were up, we took up fire positions on the roof, with machine gunners like myself on the corners. Our Platoon commander or "The Boss" and most of the Riflemen were in cover in the roof troughs.

We let the engineers go about their business of clearing the roof, and the compound below. As Infanteers, it was our job to keep the enemy off their backs. They knew their trade, and we knew ours.

It did not take long for them to test us. The multiple on our right flank came under fire. We could hear he "pop pop pops" of rounds being traded in the distance, and contact reports over the radio. Then it was our turn.

To our front there was a large pylon and we began to take fire from the base of it, and the compounds around it. 
As soon as we heard the rapid snap of incoming fire, everyone except The Boss and the NCOs were up on the "humps" of the roof, in a baseline returning fire.
We poured rounds on to the source of the incoming, and any likely fire positions. As usual, getting good "eyes on" the enemy was difficult.

We would continue to trade fire with the enemy for the next hour or so on and off. As the last contact fizzled out we settled into a period of inactivity, while the painstaking clearance of the compound continued below us.

Laying there on the curve of the roof, with my weapon at ease on its bi pod,  I would continue the series of decisions that would lead to my wounding. These would be decisions that,in the months I lay flat on my back in hospital, I would never be able to fully explain.

I'm not a believer in fate, or that our lives are paths laid out before us, but it definitely felt like I was following a script that day.

-End scene-