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19-05-2009, 01:43
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מנהל פורומי צבא ובטחון, מילואים והלוחות
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חבר מתאריך: 07.04.02
הודעות: 23,839
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נכון!
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ובטקסט:
International Herald Tribune
Dutch patrol in Afghanistan is hit by a Taliban ambush
By C.J. Chivers
Published: April 9, 2007
SURKH-MURGHAB, Afghanistan: Captain Abdul Rakhman peered over a chest-high mud wall as gunfire and shouts rose to a crescendo. Beside him were two Afghan Army soldiers and a Dutch marine. A few meters away another Afghan soldier knelt in the dirt, reloading a rocket-propelled grenade launcher.
The patrol was stuck, enveloped in a poppy field in a Taliban ambush. Automatic rifle fire came toward them from a tree line about 175 meters, or 575 feet, to the west and from a row of mud-walled Afghan houses to the east and north.
The captain and the sergeant had dashed here when the shooting began six minutes before, leading an Afghan squad to cover. Now neither side of the wall was safe. Bullets smacked the face of the dried mud beside them; the rest of the squad was lying exposed in the field. Taliban fighters were on both flanks. More bullets whirred by.
The marine turned toward a building. "O.K.," he said. "Go! Go! Go!" The squad began to fall back.
This intensive firefight, across poppy fields and against a fast-moving group of insurgents, began a 38-minute withdrawal under fire from a village out of the Afghan government's control, like many here in the overwhelmingly Pashtun provinces of central, southern and eastern Afghanistan. It also showed some of the strengths and weaknesses of the Taliban fighters, who fought fiercely but made mistakes of their own.
The patrol, an Afghan squad supported by a Dutch mechanized infantry platoon, had set out about an hour earlier from Poentjak, in Uruzgan Province, an isolated region of arid mountains and cultivated valleys that is one of the areas where the Taliban originated. The family of Mullah Omar, the Taliban's leader, comes from Uruzgan. Poentjak, the northernmost Dutch position in the province, is a heavily fortified outpost near the Baluchi Valley, which the Taliban control.
On this day, an Afghan Army patrol planned to walk to the edge of Surkh-Murghab, a pro-Taliban village beside the patrol base. Sergeant Leendert, a Dutch marine and the squad's senior adviser, hoped that Captain Abdul Rakhman, an Afghan intelligence officer, could arrange a meeting between the village's elders and a reconstruction specialist. (Following Dutch military rules, Sergeant Leendert and other junior soldiers can be identified only by their rank and first name.) The Afghans stopped their three pickup trucks on a muddy road about 900 meters from the village and began to walk, crossing fields and groves of fruit and nut trees. Sergeant Leendert walked with the captain in the first fire team. Another marine, Sergeant John, trailed with the second fire team.
Three Dutch armored vehicles and two machine-gun trucks stayed back while a machine-gun truck and an armored vehicle crawled forward, shadowing several Dutch engineers who swept the road for mines. A forward observer watched from the base, prepared to provide mortar fire.
Abdul Rakhman immediately sensed trouble. Usually, farmers and their livestock roam these fields. But the men and their animals had disappeared.
The patrol walked through the stillness toward a mud-walled compound. "Everybody follow me and watch closely," the captain said, over his two-way radio.
As the Afghan soldiers approached from the south, women flowed out of the compound to the north. Their blue burkhas seemed to float through the thigh-high green grass.
The day before, the captain had met an Afghan police commander who told him that the father of the Taliban chief in Surkh-Murghab was a lame old man. Now, an occupant of the compound stepped outside and tried to follow the women. It was a lame old man.
More women were fleeing. The captain suspected men were hiding under the burkhas, too.
The captain stopped the old man. He said he was scared, and told the captain the whole village was aligned with the Taliban. The captain directed the patrol to the left, west then northwest toward the road, hoping to walk on the village's edge and avoid a trap between buildings.
They were crossing open ground when the Taliban attacked. The first shot was a 107-millimeter rocket, which flew overhead and exploded on the opposite side of the road. The captain and the marine bounded to the wall. The ambush began. Taliban fighters opened fire with automatic rifles from the west, north and northeast.
The Dutch engineers had advanced nearby, and were caught in the open, too. Together the Afghans and Dutch returned fire. More Taliban joined in, now from the east, firing from the compound where the old man had stood.
The patrol was exposed on three sides, caught in a kill zone. But the Taliban's marksmanship was poor. Burst after burst flew wide. Stray shots buzzed past or thudded in the mud.
About three hundred meters back, the Dutch platoon commander, First Lieutenant Marcel, directed fire from the vehicles' machine guns and 25-millimeter cannons. The patrol began to make its escape.
Sergeant Leendert led the first team of the Afghan patrol over two walls toward a building. The second team of the patrol broke for another, sprinting toward the road. A rocket-propelled grenade swooshed through the air toward them, struck and failed to detonate. It skipped off the soil and caromed past Sergeant John. The second team reached the wall, hopped it and returned fire.
The Afghans and Dutch were in view of one another, spread along 450 meters of road. Lieutenant Marcel, who had only a few dozen troops to cover the pinned soldiers and to defend the base, gave the order to withdraw. A Dutch soldier near him fell, struck near the neck. Medics rushed to him, and began treating him on the grass.
The 81-millimeter mortar section opened fire, trying to drop explosive rounds into a compound with several Taliban fighters. The first round missed. The second was closer. The mortar crew adjusted and put the third round within the walls. It began to fire shot after shot into the same place, 18 rounds in all.
With their heavier weapons, the Dutch had a firepower advantage. They suppressed the insurgents to the west.
But the Taliban's fighters were local men; they knew the ground. They moved through vegetation and ditches along the eastern flank and opened another angle of fire, giving themselves clear shots across the only withdrawal route.
For a few minutes there was a lull in the Taliban firing. But as more of them moved east, their shooting intensified, forcing the soldiers to run beside armored vehicles, using the armor as rolling shields.
A patrol that began as a slow and methodical walk had become a blur of sprinting, shooting, waiting, peeking around corners and catching breath. The soldiers shouted in four languages, Dutch, Dari, English and Pashto. Diesel engines grumbled and whined, and the tracks on the armored vehicles creaked.
Through almost all of it, Sergeant Leendert walked upright, with no helmet and little reaction to the passing bullets. He stands almost two meters tall, or six feet, six inches.
"Stay low," he said to the other soldiers, advice he did not follow himself.
Abdul Rakhman ran ahead, finding one firing position after another. Unlike many other Afghans, who fire in bursts, he raised the rifle to his eye, aimed and fired single shots.
Another rocket-propelled grenade slammed near the armored vehicles and exploded, wounding Adam Khan and Sabz Ali, two Afghan soldiers. Adam Khan had shrapnel in his back; Sabzi Ali had shrapnel in his hand. Both continued on.
The platoon made a wall of vehicles around the downed Dutch soldier, Private First Class Rob, until medics bandaged him and loaded him into an armored ambulance.
Then the Dutch broke contact and reached a gully out of the line of fire.
Abdul Rakhman shared news. "I shot one," he said. He swept with his hand from his belly to his neck, indicating where the enemy had been struck. The gesture resembled zipping a coat. He shrugged. "I think he is dead," he said.
Helicopters had appeared, and the platoon sergeant tossed a green smoke grenade to mark a landing zone. A Blackhawk landed, took on the wounded Dutch soldier and lifted away. The patrol was over.
The Dutch and Afghan drove back to their bunkers while smoke rose and drifted over Surkh-Murghab.
Word of the wounded Dutch soldier passed among the troops. He had been struck by the casings of a round fired from a 25-millimeter cannon, Lieutenant Marcel said, making him a victim of friendly fire. His wound was not severe.
Such villages, the captain said, could never be won with such a small force. Seeing the Afghan patrol approach, the local men had ushered their families away and coordinated an attack, striking from multiple directions and with several different types of weapons.
But the Taliban had also made mistakes, he said, including firing too soon. Had the Afghan patrol been allowed to walk farther into the ambush site it would have been encircled.
The captain still had questions he wanted answered. Later, near darkness, he slipped away from the base in civilian clothes, to talk with shepherds passing through the fields. When he returned, he told his squad more news: two of the Taliban had been wounded, he said, and four had been killed.
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