Just another incident

Between 1950 and 1962 I served in the Royal Air Force as an Armaments fitter. In 1951 I was posted out to the Suez Canal Zone at a time when the Egyptian Government wanted all the British troops out of  the country. The Canal had been jointly built by the French and the British to cut a deep water trade route between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea,allowing ships to cut off many sea miles off the journey to the Far East. It was essential that we kept control of it.Armed resistance involving Egyptian militants took place all along the Suez Canal down to Aden,ambushing and attacking British convoys travelling between the military bases.  I was put in charge of the main armoury of the Police Wing stationed at an RAF base near the small town of Ismailia at the top end of the Canal. My duty was to maintain the small arms weapons and issue ammunition to the RAF police who patrolled the town and the Canal shore for any sign of violent disorder. One morning while on duty in the Armoury an RAF CID officer arrived with two Cypriots who spoke Arabic, whose risky task was to infiltrate terrorist groups. I was told that a group of Egyptian militants had taken up positions in a local villlage and were planning an attack on the base.A security operation was being mounted to capture them. A special RAF unit would enter the village in the early hours of the morning to try to take them unawares. It had been arranged for a Bren Gun (a light machine Gun) Carrier to prevent any escape. Someone proficient in handling such a weapon was required. Could I help? It was a request, not an order, since it was outside my province of duty. At that time l was just a Junior Non Commissioned Officer, though I had earned a reputation as a skilled marksman. I thought about it.The chances were that l would not get involved in any direct action. It was doubtful if the terrorists were heavily armed and they may be caught unawares and not put up much of a fight.. I was exposed to very little risk with the steel armour of the carrier to protect me if any gun fire came in my direction. I volunteered.

 

In the small hours of the morning l stood inside the turret of the Bren Gun Carrier, positioneed in the shelter of some palm trees at the edge of the village. The cold steel of the gun, a full magazine loaded in the breech, nestled against my cheek.Stars shone brightly from a dark velvet sky. The outlines of the village were black shadows on the ground. The cold wind rustled the leaves of the palm trees.I wished that l had worn my overcoat. My driver cleared his throat and made a comment to the wireless operator sitting beside him. I strained my eyes in the darkness.I thought l saw figures flitting in and out of the shadows. The Intelligence Unit had orders to infiltrate the village when all vehicles were in position. I watched and waited. The minutes ticked by. Suddenly a flare shot up and hovered over the village,its yellow light dazzling in its intensity. Startled by the sudden illumination and feeling vulnerably exposed, l ducked down inside the turret. This was not in the script. My driver let out a curse. A volley of shots shattered the silence. An explosion followed, possibly from a hand granade.There was more gunfire and now I could see running figures. To my left l saw vehicles moving forward. Our wireless crackled into action and the drver threw the Carrier into gear. As we advanced on the village l heard more shots.A building suddenly burst into flames. Shouts and screams mingled together.My mouth dried up and my heartbeat quickened.

 

The wireless stuttered again and to my relief the Carrier came to a halt three hundred yards from the village. I took the precaution of checking the Bren gun and releasing the safety catch. Though the flare had gone out, the soaring flames from the burning building lit up the whole settlement. As a few more shots rang out. I heard voices shouting in Arabic. Half a dozen men in flowing robes and headgear suddenly burst into view and came running towards us.A bullet whistled over my head and another pinged against the steeel plating. The driver screamed at me, "Fire, Fire!" I hesitated for a minute, disbelieving,  then put my eye to the gunsight and squeezed the trigger. l fired only a short burst but saw a man stagger and fall. The remainder  swerved aside and vanishd into the shadows.

 

Engines revved and l was conscious of vehicles moving ahead and taking up fresh positions. My driver received orders to skirt the village and we trundled off.l could not take my eyes from the Arab on the ground. I wanted to jump down and check on his condition, but the driver told me to stay put. We slowly circled the village, but all hostilities had ceased. The flames died down and the village quietened. After about half an hour we were ordered to return to base. As we turned towards it, the sky began to lighten with the approach of dawn, By the time we reached the Police Wing the blood red sun was balanced on the horizon. Later that day we heard that eight Arab terrorists had been captured.Two of the security personnel had been wounded. There were no confirmed news of any other casualties, though the rumour spread that five Egyptians had been killed. I never knew if the man I had fired at was one of them. I was asked to make a report of the event and account for the ammunition l had used. I heard nothing more. lt was just another incident in the terrorist war.

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