Fighting in Iraq – a soldier’s account

Lieutenant Toby Haughey is based at Basra Air Station but has spent much of his time with his troops patrolling the city and towns further south.

He has now been in Iraq for just over four months and is due to return home at the end of November.

A former pupil of Latymer Upper School and a keen rock climber, he joined the Army in January 2005. His parents, Michael and Fiona Haughey, still live in Chiswick.

This is his story of a summer spent as a soldier in the heat and dust of southern Iraq.

It's 5 o'clock in the morning and a wonderfully peaceful time of day, the faint outline of the sun can just be seen as it rises out of the hazy skyline, briefly silhouetting the guns in its graceful skyward arc. In the distance the distinctive rumble and roar of armour signals the return of yet another foray into Basra City.

One by one the vehicles wind their way through the concrete chicane and arrive gratefully back into the safe haven of the camp. Each returning convoy tells a different story, some mornings where the troops have had intense fighting in the city the feeling of relief is almost tangible. Damaged vehicles are towed or stoically limp back in, determined to the last. On days where operations have gone unhindered, a veritable salvo of banter drifts across the sand as crews unload their weapons and give the customary salute' from their cupolas.

It's a little over four months now since I arrived in Iraq with the 1st Regiment Royal Horse Artillery and time has passed in a whirlwind of patrols, operations and most recently working as Command Post Officer on the Chestnut Troop Gun Line. During ourt time in theatre, my multiple and I have experienced many facets synonymous with an operational tour. These range from escorting convoys across the Kuwaiti border to conducting strike ops in search of members of Militant Jaish Al Mardhi (JAM) and Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs). Inevitably, we have also been involved in some of the less savoury aspects of life in Iraq including the odd fracas with the enemy as well as providing assistance to victims of complex IED attacks.

Whilst often stressful, these are experiences that will shape soldiers, young and old alike, and despite being employed in their secondary role, the gunners have performed extremely well. The Regiment is based at the Basra Air Station and, as such, mortar and rocket attacks have become part of the daily routine. Camp beds have been abandoned as we spend much of the night clambering about on the floor serenaded by the wail of the warning siren. Instead, each man has built a fortress out of concrete blocks in which to slumber; the ingenuity of some designs, no doubt, could be entered in next year's Ideal Home Exhibition! The resilience and robust nature of the British soldier never fails to amaze me, no attrition here, only bad jokes and cunning schemes designed to leave their valiant leader well and truly in the lurch.

Situated some twenty kilometres southwest of Basra and with a population of over five hundred thousand, lies the town of Az Zubayr. Bustling and crowded with both Shia and Sunni alike, it is a town of some significance and one which my Battery, B Battery, has been patrolling for the past three months. As with many Iraqi towns, poverty is on a biblical scale. Children vie with feral dogs for scraps of food from the ubiquitous rubbish heaps whilst parents search amongst the industrial waste for trophies to sell at market. On patrol at night the surrounding oil fields take on a surreal persona; great flaming towers mark the inky pools that litter the landscape. In a perverse twist of irony wealth is all around and yet the living fibre of this country is starved to the core.

The heat, both day and night, is oppressive and adds to the general feeling of disquiet; the older generations greet us with an aloof indifference whilst the younger generation, naïve and untainted, make no attempt to hide their curiosity. On the rare occasions where we dismount and patrol the streets on foot, it is a pleasure to see the overt friendliness of the children, though likely as not, you'll find the lumi-colour pens missing from your body armour by way of trade!

A staggering fifty percent of Iraq's population is under the age of eighteen and yet if we can have a positive effect on the children of today it might go some way towards influencing the adults of tomorrow. A wonderfully sentimental view I'll grant and I don't blame you for piping your eye, however, 'tis true none the less. The Battery has been striving to achieve this through countless Civil and Military Cooperation (CIMIC) tasks and by working closely with the tribal council leaders. In a classic hearts and minds' campaign we have been involved in projects ranging from rebuilding schools and health clinics to installing generators and water treatment plants, all of which have left the locals pleased as punch.

A few weeks ago we were involved in the extraction of British Army personnel from the two remaining strongholds in the city, namely the Provincial Joint Coordination Centre and Basra Palace. Following the draw down of Multi National Forces in Basra our future operating conditions remain uncertain. One could surmise that, with now nowhere to vent spleen inside the city, Militant JAM might turn its' attention to pastures new and migrate towards the Air Station and Az Zubayr. If the chaps had any sense they would see that it is our intent to hand over control to the Iraqis and quietly leave, sadly far too rational methinks and already the IED threat in our area of operations has risen sharply.

Thankfully with the advent of Bulldog and Mastiff, which are two rather impressive armoured vehicles and both well stocked with nifty technology, our ability to detect roadside bombs is higher than ever. Flexibility and ingenuity are the watchwords of the day; if you thought a week was a long time in politics then you'd better pack a good sized trunk if you're heading out to Iraq.

The challenges for me as a first-tour multiple commander have been significant. The learning curve has been in some instances only just short of vertical; trying to maintain a calm, never-been-better exterior whilst flapping like a windsock inside, featured heavily in the early days. I am pleased to say that now, after plenty of getting lost and mechanical break downs, the multiple is running very smoothly as we become attuned to this harsh environment. Many of the quieter members have really begun to step out centre stage and positively thrive in the daily challenges. My younger gunners have grown up extremely quickly and often find themselves in positions of real responsibility whilst interacting with the locals on patrol. The British Army, whilst not always liked, is seen as a professional and formidable force by the Iraqi people and I see even my least confident soldiers growing into the role whilst dealing with irate drivers or wildly vocal, burka clad women.

Whilst out on patrol there is often much ill-feeling towards us; indeed it was only two days ago, whilst driving down the market street, one of my vehicle commanders reported the harrowing news that a melon had collided with his head. However, it warms the cockles of my heart when one of the ancient patriarchs, whilst nonchalantly watching the world go by, leaps to his feet and waves vigorously to a passing patrol. In the Arab world there is no greater compliment than the blessing of the elders and it imbues hope for the future. We live in changing times and bear witness to significant events day by day; it is a privilege, though sometimes somewhat masked, to have ringside seats to the evolution of a civilisation so vastly different to our own.