Summer 2014 – Abdul’s night out
Abdul had lain in ambush for the whole day and night, he was
in a bad mood. Over the last few months
he had only had one opportunity to fire his RPG, and that one had failed to
explode, while his two classmates had been blown apart by accurate return fire. Since then he had diligently attended training
every week. Now the Mad Mullah had
ordered the local cell to lay ambush right at his front door! But nothing had happened. Another wasted opportunity, his mother would
no doubt throw more scorn upon his bent head.
He lamented about there being no justice! His brother had been gloriously blown apart
by one of the air devils. Then his cell
phone jingled, “Abdul?”, he silently cursed the fool for using his name, “Yes?”
“We have three camels and three dogs heading your way!” Praise be!
That morning he had buried his prized possession, an
Italian-made AT mine his father had horded since the Russians had left.
He looked left, the PKM was dug-in in a pile of old
corn-cobs, to his right, an RPG team lay at ready. Then he heard engines. From his right!? He looked at his childhood friend, who merely
shrugged in the darkness. He then saw
faint lights of many vehicles driving towards his location from the south. He felt paradise beckoning. Several of his fellow insurgents stood up to
try and see what the new approaching vehicles were.
Then from his left revved an American engine, a camel! In the moonlight he could make out the gunner on the heavy machine gun. “Fire!” He yelled! Bullets splattered the HUMVEE, but the American was a cool customer, he poured fire into the PKM team killing Bi’b Alls. Then it was his turn, as the HUMVEE sped over his AT-mine it poured fire at him, he was splattered with blood and gore and dived to the ground, before the RPG team could fire it was also hit. The HUMVEE sped on to the cross-road, oblivious that it had just driven over a massive landmine.
As the HUMVEE approached the desperately lost UN convoy a half-asleep French
soldier caught site of the approaching vehicle on his video screen, he aimed
his RWS and pulled the trigger, but luckily it proved a poor shot, to his relief once he recognised that his target was a US HUMVEE.
The HUMVEE turned and drove to the head of the convoy, the
US Sergeant in the passenger seat shouted, “Follow me!” The convoy had been concertinaing and was
happy to suddenly know where to go and sped off after the HUMVEE.
Meanwhile, Abdul and his squad had retreated to the roof of
a nearby building, only for the building to be half demolished by an American
TOW missile. The insurgents were not returning
effective fire. Then the Azmakassar
Death Brigade started to arrive. Abdul
stared with envy through the darkness as they fired on the Americans and
British, for a WMIK had now joined the TOW HUMVEE. Ahead of these two vehicles was a HUMVEE with
one of the dreaded auto grenade launchers.
Abdul feeling he was losing his moment of glory grabbed an RPG, stood
up, three grenades whizzed past his head, and he fired, the RPG hit the HUMVEE
turret square on, throwing shrapnel into the gun, the gunner ducked into the
turret. The HUMVEE sped over the
mine. Abdul cursed. But the camel now had no teeth.
The Azmakassar Death’s opened with a sustained volley at the
WMIK on the road, all three of its crew men received hits. The TOW team commander seeing the Brits were
in trouble, climbed out of the HUMVEE to rescue his comrades. As he got near to the three stricken men several insurgents burst from
the roadside bushes, he stared in horror at the 8” knives! He fired at them, but was overcome and died,
the three British were soon dispatched.
The HUMVEE TOW gunner shouted to his driver to get the hell out of
there. The driver threw the HUMVEE into
reverse, did a tight turn and sped down the road, the insurgents within
grasping distance of the vehicle.
Meanwhile the long UN convoy was threading its way east of the ambush site. The AGL HUMVEE, with its destroyed gun was caught between the tail of the UN convoy and the insurgents, it tried to turn, Abdul shouted to his men “Lililililili!” and opened fire. They poured rifle fire into the HUMVEE, three of men in the HUMVEE were wounded in the hail of bullets, the HUMVEE however kept going, until it ran into Abdul’s prized possession! WHUMP! The front of the HUMVEE disintegrated. The Americans bailed out of the stricken vehicle and ran into the night, bewildered why no one fired at them.
Abdul sat down on the roof, relieved. His mother would not give him lip for at least
a week.
Meanwhile, the rear of the UN rescue unit was being guarded
by two WMIK’s from FOB Breakbone. They
sat in the darkness listening to the firefight ahead of them, the corporal
became nervous sitting in the road, and told the driver to reverse and check
behind the qalat on the side of the road, organising themselves in a small
glade was a unit of insurgents, the GPMG and 0.5 barked, but the insurgents were too quick and hit cover. They seemed way too nonchalant. And that is when the Brits the heard the
clink-clink of tracks and the roar of a dirty diesel engine, a tank! A T-55.
The corporal grabbed an AT-4 and fired, missing. The second WMIK came in to support the first,
and was destroyed by the T-55. The
driver seriously wounded. The first WMIK
immediately retreated, reversing into the neighbouring qalat. The only problem was that the T-55 was now
sitting on the road the lost UN convoy was about to retreat through.
Three pickup’s of the Azmakassar Brigade arrived, and raced
passed Adbul, in pursuit of the TOW HUMVEE.
Abdul cursed, thieves! Soon, all
three pickups were blown apart. The TOW
fired one after another of its missiles, dismembering each truck.
The HUMVEE leading the lost convoy finally turned west onto
the road leading to Patrol Base 55. Just
then a VW Combi burst from the gate of a compound driving straight towards
the lead vehicle. The 0.5 let loose and
the combi came to a grinding halt, its driver bleeding to death as the convoy
sped past.
All insurgents were heading towards the final crossroads on
the road towards the patrol base, only to see the convoy speeding past to
safety. Except in the road, ahead of the
convoy, loomed the ancient T-55. It
fired, a near-miss shredding the front wheel of the lead French VAB. The sergeant in the lead HUMVEE grabbed for
an AT-4 knowing his days were at and end.
Then out from the gateway of the nearby compound stepped the British
corporal with an AT-4, he calmly knelt and aimed, the T-55’s commander screamed
orders to hit the man, but the missile shot forth and destroyed the tank, the
crew bailing from the burning vehicle.
The convoy ground on, reduced to the speed of the damaged VAB, as it approached the smoking tank a RPG hit the lead HUMVEE, damaged its nose and front tyre, the vehicle crawled
on, damaged, slow, but not dead, the convoy followed/
Abdul stared dejected as the convoy ground past to
safety. He slumped to the ground, his
mother was going to curse him all the way to hell! Then out of the darkness appeared his mullah.
“Abdul!”
Abdul readied himself for his mullah's scorn, it would be good
practise for what he would get when he got home.
“You are the hero!”
“Ah?”
“You slowed the convoy Abdul! You slowed it long enough for the Azmakassari’s to
get here and slow it even more! When
we attack the pig dog’s base at dawn this UN pig convoy will be far away!”
Abdul could not help himself and smiled, it could not have
been any better, though, if he had died...
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