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The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comOn the IONEC, a week of the course is dedicated to familiarisation withthe increment and the S&D flight and `military week' was eagerlyanticipated by most of us.After being issued with a set of military fatigues and boots sooutdated they looked like they were SOE relics, we set off from theFort helipad in the S&D Puma. It was just after nightfall and the cabinof the helicopter was lit by the dim, red emergency exit lights. Usinginfra-red night sights, the two pilots showed off their impressive lowaltitudeskills by flying at high speed over the rolling west countryfarmland, often below the normal military legal limit of 50-feet, aprivilege given only to the S&D flight. Every few minutes, one of thepilots cheerfully called out over the intercom, Èveryone OK backthere? Just sing if you feel sick.' Nobody replied, though Bart waslooking pale. Half an hour later, the Puma hovered to a standstill acouple of feet off the ground in the corner of a dark field. `Jump,'screamed the loadie, pushing us out into the darkness, and the Pumaroared off into the night. As my eyes adjusted, I realised that we werein the SAS's Pontrilas training area in Wales. `What are we supposed todo now?' asked Hare to nobody in particular, `Pretend to be sheep?'Bart groaned and threw up, splashing Castle's boots, but before we hadtime to laugh an authoritative voice rang out from behind a nearbyhedge, Òver here, lads.'We shuffled over to where two shadowy figures waited. One was no morethan five foot six inches tall and of slight build. The other sportedthe sort of moustache favoured by soldiers. He spoke first, in a strongBrummie accent. Ì'm Barry, the 2IC of RWW. The purpose of tonight'sexercise is to give you a little insight into some of our work, so thatwhen you're back at your comfortable desks, you'll have an idea what itis like for us out in the field.' With that, he turned away, expectingus to follow. Barry's smaller companion was more amiable and trottingalongside us, introduced himself as `Tiny'.Tiny was also a sergeant in RWW and was one of its longest-servingmembers. It was easy to see why he would be useful - his diminutiveframe and modesty were advantages in undercover work. As Tiny himselfexplained, Ì once spent a whole evening trying to convince my mum Iwas in the SAS, but even she wouldn't believe me.' It was difficult toimagine how he could have passed SAS selection, but all members of RWWmust do so. The only exemptions are the few female officers who areoccasionally seconded to RWW from the army intelligence corps.We trudged in silence in the drizzle for ten minutes or so until Barrycalled a halt. Tiny pulled out a folding spade from his small backpackand started digging. In a minute or so he uncovered a plastic screwtopcontainer, about the size of a beer keg. It was a cache, just like theones I had dug up in Belgium, and it contained survival rations, water,maps, compass and money. `We often bury several of these overseas tosupport emergency exfiltration contingency plans for you guys,' Tinyexplained. He then showed us how to bury it, leaving no sign ofdisturbance, and gave us tips on how to record its location succinctlyand unambiguously. Tiny finished his demonstration and lead us back tothe field we had come from. From his backpack he fished out eight NATOissue torches complete with infra-red filters, handed them out to usand arranged us in a `T' shape, the standard pattern used in NATO forguiding down helicopters. We pointed our torches skyward and in secondspage- 49 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comthe Puma roared into view out of the darkness. We piled into the back,keeping well clear of Bart.We were dropped off at a small military airfield a few minutes away. Itwas just past midnight, cold, and the drizzle had thickened intodriving rain. Forton was getting fed up and Castle lookeddisinterested. We followed Tiny out of the wet into a small classroomjust below the airfield control tower. A woman in her late 20s, dressedin outdoor casual clothes, waited by the blackboard. She introducedherself as Mags, a captain from the Army's shady agent-handling ForceReaction Unit, on attachment to the RWW, and gave us a lecture on thenext stage of the exercise, a simulated agent emergency exfiltrationusing the S&D Hercules. She explained how we would have to spread outin a set pattern along the runway and use our infra-red torches toguide in the aircraft, and then she numbered us off, assigning us eacha position in the pattern. Turning to Barry, who was standing at theback of the class, she snapped, `Hand out the comms, sergeant.' Barryglowered back and gave each of us a Motorola walkie-talkie. Magsassigned Forton and me to opposite sides of the far end of the landingpattern and we trudged off down the runway together. `Troll-bitch fromhell, isn't she?' Forton laughed.As we reached our assigned positions, Mags's voice crackled over theMotorolas. Àlpha one, confirm position, over.' I turned to face her atthe far end of the runway and, as she had instructed, flashed theletter A in morse on the torch. `Bravo one, confirm position, over,'she called for Forton, but he was still chatting besides me and justturned to wave his torch like a child with a sparkler. `Bravo one, getin position immediately, over,' snapped Mags. Forton sauntered over therunway and Mags continued checking off the rest of the pattern. She gotas far as Barking when her instructions were blotted out by Fortonsinging into his Motorola, turned on full power, his best rendition of`Strangers in the Night'.Forton reached the fourth verse before the Hercules screamed into viewand drowned him out. With its props on full reverse thrust and itstyres screaching in protest, it halted in an astonishing short space.The rear ramp dropped and a Range Rover burst out and tore off down therunway towards the control tower. As briefed by Mags, we ran to theaircraft and clambered into the spacious hold. The aircraft executed asharp U-turn and accelerated back down the runway as we clung to thewebbing seats inside, took off, flew a tight circuit and landed again.The rear ramp was already half-open as the plane touched down, giving aview of the Range Rover hurtling down the runway after us. With theaircraft still rolling, the Range Rover hurtled up the ramp at alarmingspeed, the RWW crew strapped it down and only seconds after touchingdown we were airborne again. `That was an example of how we do hotexfiltrations,' Barry shouted over the roaring engines.We spent the night at Stirling Lines, the SAS's headquarters inHereford, dining in the officer's mess. It was an honour, becausenormally only SAS personnel are allowed to set foot in the building.After dinner, Barry stood up and spoke. Ì've arranged an interestingtalk. I'm sure it will be a humbling experience for all of you.' Heglowered at Forton and lead us into a meeting room by the mess. Astocky, dark-haired soldier was waiting, standing by an overheadprojector. As we settled into our seats he stared blankly at the wallpage- 50 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
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