Agreed, except I wouldn't limit that to just Arabs.

At least Sean didn't die

So, you're believing Arabs?

Ha.

Yay. Another thread in which GD educates the military on tactics

"You're dead anyway, so anything you do is a bonus"

Well that escalated quickly

First thing I noticed, too. We were always told not to keep the compass anywhere near the rifle when trying to get a direction.





And yeah...assaulting forward in that situation would be about all you can do. Going to break contact vs vehicles in the desert? Don't think so. Have no air support? No? Well...let's get up close and personal and hope for the best...because otherwise we're going to die in the desert where we lie.





Yes...assault forward. Bound!





 

Aren't you an 11b?

11H , we would have destroyed that armor long before ...and with army doctrine being 3:1 would have broke ambush , split off into two groups to draw fire ...certainly wouldn't have been wedged that close

That's a method, just not my preferred one.

Technically it was a very good depiction of fire and movement--one of the best in cinema.

Did it go down that way?  I doubt it.  "The Real Bravo Two Zero"  and to me it sounds accurate,  Your opinion may differ.  See for yourself and decide. They interviewed the Iraqis in 2005ish and they would have a big incentive to tell the Brits how heroic the  SAS all were.

If the enemy had a BMP I doubt I would have charged it.   Not sure I had a better plan but charging a BMP sounds tough.

I always thought the compass on the M203 was cool--but Ive never seen it done that way and strapping it to a rifle shoudl distort it.  Just like those guys that strap garmins to their weapons.  Not so sure about that.  Point man isnt the compass man anyway

I didnt like carrying the SAWs like suitcases.  Otherwise I thought the assault was very well depicted.

I don't really buy some of the "action" parts of the story. I spent 13 months in the area of Iraq where this all went down on an STT working with Iraqi Army officers who fought in DS. They (B20) would have been completely ass-raped by ground attack aircraft out of Al-Asad if they had actually been engaged by regular Iraqi Army units in that area of the Anbar desert. The Coalition didn't strike Al-Asad in '91 and their air fleet was fully operational and on standby at that time. An Iraqi ground commander would have IMMEDIATELY called for CAS in that area... it would only be a 20 minute or less flight. That team would have been ripped to shreds by one of the several SU-25s or converted MiG-21s they had there.

Truth is, they didn't get compromised until they got to the border at Al Qaim. And they got their asses kicked.

Was at al asad for a while . The area is huge. Still gutted migs sitting out there

Al Asad was hit in Desert Storm, at The river does not run the way betrayed in the movie at Qiam, crossing the boarder does not involve crossing the river


From Air Force history of F-117 operations

The first draft of B20 went like this:

I was sitting outside the Hereford Boathouse with my squadron-mates Twozzer, Dingleberry and Phil the cunt when we got the call.

We had to tab to the Lannies and drive to the head-shed double-time to see G, we knew some serious shit was going down if they were calling on X squadron to get something done.

Turns out that Saddam had invaded Kuwait, and all fucking hell was breaking loose.

G told us that HM herself had authorised our mission - take out Saddam, and end the war. "We need total deniability on this one" G said "no identifying papers!"

I knew what that meant - I had to head back to the barracks and get rid of the one thing that could tie me to the regiment - the winged dagger I'd had tattoed on my cock to celebrate the Beirut job. 2 minutes with some 60 grit sandpaper did the job, and I was ready to kit up.

I was always ready to leave in 60 seconds, so I got my gear on my back and out the door. The SA80's shit, that's just for grunts and squaddies, I chose the mini-14 as my personal weapon, as recommended by small-unit tactics expert Colonel H Smith. A fuck-load of mags, a few claymores and a 24-hour rat pack was all the extra kit I needed.

The regiment's always had a cosy relationship with BA, so when we got to Heathrow we tooled straight into first class on a Jumbo bound for the ME - Just us in our HALO suits and a few fat businessmen sipping champagne - Fit crack stewardesses, but X squadron had planning on our minds, no time for any more than our tops and fingers.

When the plane got close to the Iraqi border, everyone had to strap in while we opened the door and jumped out into the night, drop bags full of kit leading the way, NV goggles on.

This shit had just got real.

We reached terminal velocity and crossed the border at 03:00 - we had intel that Saddam was going to inspect a bunch of republican guard tossers that morning, we had to get a fucking move on.

Dingleberry's chute didn't open, and he arced right into the ground - I'd told him not to let Phil pack his chute, he really is a massive cunt!

Once the 3 remaining squadron members landed we set up an RV and all had a shit to lighten us up for action, but we had to carry it with us in plastic bags to avoid attracting insects to the RV and alerting the enemy.

It was 3 hours hard tab to the target point, Phil the cunt was a real racing snake and kept up the pace, but Twozzer was getting too old for this shit, he was holding us back til I gave him a tab of E - that perked him up!

We got to the target compound, 5 senties in a standard 4-way patrol pattern, piece of fucking piss and we had them all slotted inside 2 minutes, then we rigged up all our claymores to cover our exit route. Twozzer was really starting to trip his nuts off, but was professional as ever, except for the dancing.

We headed for the HQ building, the boys set up stag outside while I fired a grapnel up and bombed up the rope straight into Saddam's bathroom - there the fucker was, large as life in a fluffy pink dressing down with epaulettes and medals.

Acting purely on instinct I took aim and pulled the trigger!

My fucking Mini-14 jammed, the first time this had ever happened to anyone, and Saddam was turning to run, pressing the alarm button on the wall - thinking on my feet, I opened my rat pack and threw a Biscuit, Brown shuriken style - it went straight into his skull and he dropped on the spot.


I rolled him over so I could start cutting off his moustache as a trophy to prove to G that we'd done it again - Fuck me, it turned out it was some other cunt with a 'tache, one of Saddam's decoys - and now the whole fucking wasps nest of ragheads was going to be after us.

I piled out the window to meet up with Twozzer and Phil the cunt who were dropping their extra kit and loading up extra mags, their 1000 yard stares showing them to be steely-eyed dealers of death - now our only mission was survival, so we headed out on our planned evac route to the RV.

The RG were after us now - 30 or so, firing AKs from the hip as they piled straight into our claymore ambush and evaporated. Twats.

But now they were coming in BMPs, things looked bad. The first BMP we took out by ducking down in a ditch then jumping in the back hatch as they went past and mowing them down - now we had some wheels, we'd make it across the border in an hour and be home for tea and medals that night.

Nothing was going right, though - in the mirror I saw a fucking Mi24 Hind bearing down on us - A stupid civvy cunt like you wouldn't know, but that's one mean piece of helicopter badassery.

I had one chance, so I climbed out on top of the BMP with my trusty Browning Hi-Power as Twozzer, high as a fucking kite, junked it left and right while singing ABBA songs - the Hind got closer, I took aim at the pilot and took my shot - he slumped forward and the Hind came towards us with gathering speed - I took the chance and jumped up, swinging into the pilot's seat just in time to pull it out of the dive. I turned around to the gunner and just grinned - he was shitting himself and the yellow bastard jumped out into the desert air.

I bounced down, picked up Twozzer and the cunt and we headed for the border. Iraqi TV later said there had been a small fire at a barracks and 2 soldier s had died - lying bastards. Our TV didn't cover it at all, just how we like it.

We didn't win any medals, but I got my cock tattoed again in memory of Dingleberry. RIP.



(With which I won the UKHTF "Walt fiction" competition )

Now that's a war story.  

tag

i know , fuckin epic aint it



 

All my guns have compasses on them

One of the things that really bothered me, unless he decided that LAW vs BMP was ineffective, but in that case, why not save it for a rear quarter shot?