BRAVO TWO ZERO EBOOK
Read "Bravo Two Zero The Harrowing True Story of a Special Forces Patrol Behind the Lines in Iraq" by Andy McNab available from Rakuten. content from our site. Start by pressing the button below! Report copyright / DMCA form · DOWNLOAD EPUB Die Maenner von Bravo Two Zero · Read more. Bravo Two Zero - 20th Anniversary Edition by Andy McNab. Read online, or download in secure EPUB format.
|Language:||English, Spanish, French|
|ePub File Size:||26.50 MB|
|PDF File Size:||14.28 MB|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Regsitration Required]|
Bravo two zero by Andy McNab; 13 editions; First published in ; Subjects: British Personal narratives, Great Britain, Great Britain. Army. Special Air Service . Their call sign: Bravo Two Zero. Each man laden with 15 stone of equipment, they patrolled 20km across flat desert to reach their objective. Within days, their. 06 апр. г.- Bravo Two Zero DOWNLOAD PDF/ePUB [Andy McNab] pdf download.
The Real Bravo Two Zero.pdf
Nick Stone Book Tony Barnes. Hunter Killer. Chris Ryan. Murder Team.
The Eye of the Tiger. Wilbur Smith. Masters of War. Blue Horizon. The One that Got Away.
Those in Peril. The Triumph of the Sun. Crisis Four Nick Stone Book 2: The Blackpool Rock. Steve Sinclair. Zero Six Bravo. Damien Lewis. The Diamond Hunters. Vicious Circle. Zero Hour Nick Stone Book Light Touch. Stephen Leather. Remote Control Nick Stone Book 1: Liberation Day Nick Stone Book 5: White Lies. Chris Allen. Dark Winter Nick Stone Book 6: Last Light Nick Stone Book 4: First Man In: Leading from the Front.
Ant Middleton. Black Ops.
Adolf Galland. The Fall of Reach. Eric Nylund. Gold Mine. Cry Wolf.
Aggressor Nick Stone Book 8: Deep Black Nick Stone Book 7: Firewall Nick Stone Book 3: Bad Soldier. Shout at the Devil. Recoil Nick Stone Book 9: Wild Justice. Afghan Heat: SAS Operations in Afghanistan. Steve Stone. Men of Men. The Shout. When the Lion Feeds.
It was as if the contents of everyones attics had suddenly hit the market at rock-bottom prices. For six dollars I bought a British-made prismatic compass in perfect condition, which in London would have cost me three hundred dollars. The features I encountered most frequently were the ubiquitous portraits of Saddam Hussein, which glared or smiled down from every street corner. These portraits represented the President in various guises: the paternal Saddam cuddling a child, the military Saddam in bemedalled uniform, the Arab prince in stately robes, the Iraqi Fellah in knotted headcloth, the sociable Saddam squatting with a glass of tea, the devout Saddam performing his prayers, and the westernized, modern Saddam resplendent in a white suit there was even a relaxed Saddam talking on the telephone.
There was something for almost everyone here a man for all seasons, I thought. The real Saddam, however, appeared to be keeping a low profile, and sometimes I began to wonder if he actually existed at all. Uday was the number two or three at the Ministry of Information, a grave-looking man who had been a professional journalist in Paris before the war, and who had the rather disconcerting habit of addressing me as my dear.
In his spacious but spartan office on the top floor of the Ministry building he welcomed us with a prepared speech about the resilient nature of the Iraqi people and how you could not defeat a nation with a civilization going back 6, years.
It was propaganda, but I took his point. The earliest civilizations known to man Babylon, Sumer, Akkad, Assyria and others had flourished in the valleys of the Euphrates and the Tigris thousands of years before Christ. Beside them, even the ancient Egyptians were newcomers, and the British and Americans little more than literate barbarians.
Los clientes que compraron este producto tambiÃ©n compraron
When I went over what I had come here to do, and emphasized that I wanted to follow the routes of the Bravo Two Zero patrol on foot, he shook his head and looked worried.
That is difficult, he said. Very difficult indeed. I assumed he had thought it would be enough for me to pursue my research in Baghdad. When I continued, saying that I hoped to find eyewitnesses the shepherd-boy Ryan and McNab said had spotted them, the driver of the bulldozer who had approached their LUP, local militia involved in the initial firefight, the driver of the taxi they had hijacked, witnesses of the battles the patrol had fought near the Syrian border, the men who found Vince Phillipss body, personnel who had interrogated the patrol he actually laughed.
I have read your CV, my dear, he said. You should know very well that people such as this shepherd-boy are nomads. They move on all the time.
Bravo Two Zero - 20th Anniversary Edition
It is very unlikely that they will be in the same place now, and how will you find them? As for the military personnel involved, we are talking about ten years ago, when we had a huge conscript army. Since then people have died and moved all round the country, records have been lost or burned or blown up, and the whole system of administration has been changed.
How will you find a taxi driver when you dont know the mans name or even the number of his car? There are thousands of taxi drivers in Iraq.
You are looking for needles in haystacks it is most unlikely that you will find any eyewitnesses. Why dont you stay in Baghdad, shoot some film here instead? I left his office feeling depressed. In the scale of a war in which at least , Iraqis died and 63, were captured, I realized suddenly, an eight-man patrol was very small fry indeed. And yet McNab wrote that the patrol had accounted for at least two hundred and fifty Iraqi casualties, so someone, somewhere, must have felt the impact of the operation.
For the next few days I hung around the hotel disconsolately waiting for news, and it began to occur to me that the Iraqis had no intention of letting me wander around their deserts.
The government had applied for the UN sanctions to be lifted again and in some quarters opinion was shifting in their favour. Probably, I reflected gloomily, they had seen an opportunity to get a British film-crew into Baghdad and score some sympathetic foreign coverage free of charge. My mood wasnt heightened when Ahmad, a stringy, reserved and rather morose man from the Ministry of Information, suggested a visit to the Amiriya Bunker to pass the time.
It was a civic airraid shelter situated in a residential area of Baghdad that had been hit by American missiles in February , and civilians among them many children had been killed.
It was a sobering experience, to say the least. The place had been left almost exactly as it was when it had been hit, with a vast hole punched through a roof of stressed concrete ten feet thick. The walls and floor were still blackened from the blast, and Ahmad told me that the rescue services hadnt been able to open the vast steel doors, so by the time they had cut through them with oxyacetylene torches, most of the survivors had been burned to ashes.
Actually, the bunker had been hit by two laser-guided missiles: an incendiary rocket that had come through the air-vent and the explosive missile which had caused the gaping wound in the roof. Photos of the dead children decorated the walls, as well as pictures of the scorched and mutilated bodies being removed. The Coalition had claimed that the bunker was being used by Saddam Husseins military command, and even that the apparent civilian casualties had been invented by the Iraqis.
Opciones de compra
However, foreign reporters who were allowed to inspect the place at the time found no evidence that it had been used by the military, and Alan Little of the BBC, who watched the mangled bodies being carried out, concluded that this was something totally beyond the ability of the Iraqi Ministry of Information to stage-manage.
This morning we saw the charred and mutilated remains of those nearest the door, he told viewers. They were piled into the back of a truck: many were barely recognizable as human. Men from the district pushed and jostled through the crowd to find news of their families, many distressed to the point of panic. Whatever the case, Amiriya was a salutary reminder that modern war is not an affair of lone warriors, but of billions of dollars-worth of technology, and its end result is too often places like this.
I tried to imagine what it must have been like for those trapped in here when the missile struck, and turned away with a shudder. The only high point of those days of waiting was when Ahmad insinuated himself into the lobby of my hotel one morning clutching a newspaper article in Arabic.
The piece, dating from earlier in the year, was an interview with a man called Adnan Badawi, who had been a passenger in a taxi that had been hijacked by a group of British commandos near Krabilah in western Iraq, on 26 January The article excited me it was the first independent evidence from an Iraqi source that the Bravo Two Zero mission had actually happened.
Moreover, the article included not only Adnans name, but that of the taxi driver and even better the registration number of the taxi itself. The first needle in the haystack had at least been glimpsed, if not found, and Ahmad told me that he was taking steps to contact Adnan, who lived in Mosul in the far north of Iraq.
The bad news was that further permission from the Ministry of Defence was required before I could visit the Anbar region of western Iraq, where the action had taken place. But in any case, he concluded, I should probably be able to start on Wednesday.
Wednesday came, but permission did not. Ahmad told me the expedition was rescheduled for Saturday. I had already been hanging around for more than a week and my time was slipping away. It was May, and incredibly hot in Baghdad, and if I waited any longer it would be high summer, and almost suicidal to travel on foot in the desert.
I asked Ahmad for a meeting with Uday, was granted one, and went up to see him with my associate producer, Nigel Morris. Look, Mr Uday, I said, as politely and firmly as I could. We were given visas on the basis of this project the Bravo Two Zero story and I sent you a full outline before we came. I understood we had permission to do it already. We have been completely open about what we intended to do from the beginning and there is no secret about it.
If it is not the case that we were given permission, then please tell us now. Our time is running out and I have to say that unless we really do leave on Saturday we shall have to return to the UK. Udays face turned black and I waited for the axe to fall. I knew I was sticking my neck out; I thought of the footballers the Presidents son had had tortured for losing against Turkestan.
You have to realize this country is still at war, my dear, he said, dryly. We are suffering under UN sanctions and things cant be organized just like that. It is the military who are dragging their feet, not the Ministry of Information. The problem is that you cannot go into that area without a representative from the military, and nobody is going to walk in the desert at this time of year.
I smiled. Thats no problem, I said. The representative can travel in our GMC vehicles with the film-crew while I walk. Yes, he said. But then how are they going to be able to see what you get up to?
I can rendezvous with the vehicles every few hours. Uday considered this and said he would see what he could do. He picked up the telephone. By the time I had reached the door, he was bellowing into the receiver like a bull. The minders were so different in personality and approach that I sometimes wondered if they were deliberately working the good cop, bad cop routine.
Ali, the civilian, was tall, moon-faced, pot-bellied and dishevelled-looking, an exuberant, talkative extrovert who spoke no English but was for ever slapping people on the back and roaring out their names. Abu Omar, the military man, was small and dapper with immaculately pressed suits and carefully combed and oiled hair.
He was aloof and disdainful, taciturn to the point of rudeness, and gave the impression that the last thing in the world he needed was to accompany a bunch of Englishmen into the desert.
We drove up the Euphrates Valley, through smoky industrial towns and villages huddling in palm groves, and halted at the area headquarters at Rumadi to meet our military escort: a detachment of six soldiers under a lieutenant, in an ordinary Toyota pickup with a machine-gun mounted on the back. When I quizzed Ali about the escort, he told me it was for our protection. The place is full of wolves and bandits, he said.
Ali had served in an infantry battalion during the IranIraq war, and shivered when I asked him about it. It was terrible, he said. It was hand-to-hand fighting, up close so you could see the enemy, butchering them with knives and bayonets, and them butchering us. May God protect us from the devil, I never again want to see anything like that! The IranIraq war lasted eight years, but did not resolve any of the issues over which it had been fought. Saddam Husseins original excuse for his invasion of western Iran was to end the Iranian monopoly of the Shatt al-Arab waterway, conceded to her in a treaty of The war consisted mainly of bloody World War I-style offensives against immovable tiers of trenches, in which the attackers were frequently mown down like sheep.
Both sides used chemical weapons, and in both began lobbing missiles against each others capitals. In Iran made the fatal mistake of targetting Kuwaiti tankers in the Gulf, bringing down upon her the wrath of the USA, which had hitherto been covertly supplying her with weapons. Reviled by world opinion, and finding it increasingly difficult to buy arms, Iran was obliged to negotiate a peace treaty in Saddam Hussein crowed over the masses of Iranian armour and artillery his armies had captured, but it was a Pyrrhic victory: up to 1.
In Kuwait, a tiny but oil-rich desert princedom on Iraqs southern border, pressed Saddam Hussein for repayment of certain loans she had made to her neighbour during the war. In reply, Saddam accused the Kuwaitis of contravening the OPEC agreement by overproducing oil, costing Iraq fourteen million dollars in lost revenues. He also claimed that Kuwait had been pumping crude oil from the Ramailah oilfield, whose ownership was disputed and, throwing in Iraqs traditional claim on Kuwaiti territory for good measure, invaded the princedom with one hundred thousand troops and twelve hundred tanks.
It was 2 August The buildup of Iraqi forces continued, however, and by November the Coalition was facing no less than twentysix divisions in the Kuwait theatre, comprising more than , men. It was becoming clear to Allied Commander-in-Chief H. Norman Schwarzkopf and his political bosses that nothing short of a counter-offensive would oust the Iraqis from Kuwait, and by mid-November he had finalized his plan of attack. On 29 November the UN Security Council lit the fuse of war by authorizing the use of force if the Iraqis did not pull out of Kuwait by 15 January General Schwarzkopf, nicknamed The Bear, had devised a two-phase offensive against the Iraqis, designated Desert Storm.
First, wave after wave of Allied bombers would go in, hitting strategic targets, cutting the command infrastructure and gaining control of the skies. When this had been achieved, the Air Force would turn its attention to the Iraqi army, pounding their artillery, armour and static defences mercilessly until the morale of Saddam Husseins troops had been comprehensively worn down.
Only then would the massed divisions of the Coalition ground forces go in for the kill. Within days of the invasion of Kuwait, the two available squadrons of 22 SAS, G and D, were put on standby in Hereford, and while the SAS Intelligence Unit began a frantic round of briefings and reports, G Squadron was despatched to the United Arab Emirates to begin refresher training in desert warfare. B Squadron to which McNab and Ryan belonged was currently holding down the Regiments Special Projects or counter-revolutionary warfare role, and A Squadron was in Columbia, training teams to fight the drug barons, but each was duly scheduled to desert retraining in turn.
There were more than sixteen hundred British citizens in Iraqi custody in Iraq and Kuwait, so freeing them would hardly be an easy business. Indeed, a British team tasked with planning a hostage-recovery operation calculated that it would require a force of at least Brigade strength more than three times the manpower of all three SAS Regiments combined and would still probably result in more casualties than the number of hostages released.
The plan was scrapped in December, when Saddam Hussein released the hostages anyway. To Schwarzkopf, who had seen the bungling of US Special Forces in Vietnam and Grenada, this was to be an air and missile operation, backed up by heavy armoured and mechanized infantry units. What the hell could Special Forces do, he demanded, that a Stealth fighter could not? In the second week of December, the Commander of British forces in the Gulf, General Sir Peter de la Billire a former CO of 22 SAS had given the Regiment instructions to start devising plans for deep-penetration raids behind Iraqi lines, saying that they should be ready to go by 15 January.
It was only shortly before this deadline that de la Billire managed finally to win Schwarzkopf over, with a formal presentation involving detailed maps and graphics. The SAS task, he explained, would be to cut roads and create diversions which would draw Iraqi forces away from the main front and sow fears in the mind of the enemy that some major operation was brewing on his right flank. It was certainly the concept upon which SAS founder David Stirling had based the original Regiment back in , but since the regular unit had been reconstituted for the Malayan Emergency in , it had generally used its skills for more strategic roles.
But it was better than nothing: the SAS Regiment is a very expensive outfit to keep up, and despite de la Billires decree that he would not send in the SAS unless there was a proper job for them, this was the biggest deployment of troops since World War II and the Regiment had to be seen to earn its pay.
Not since had such a large contingent of British Special Forces been assembled in one place. The three SAS regular sabre or operational squadrons deployed in the Gulf were supported by fifteen men of R Squadron, the little-publicized territorial unit whose members are trained to provide individual replacements for the regular squadrons in time of need.
At hours on 17 January , General Schwarzkopf received word that the first targets of Desert Storm two Iraqi early-warning radar installations on the Saudi Arabian border had been taken out.
A dozen Apache helicopters of the st Airborne streaked in only ten metres above the desert floor and hit them from five kilometres away with deadly laser-guided Hellfire missiles. The Apache flight had been followed up by eight F fighters tasked to skewer the nearest Iraqi airdefence command centre, opening up a brace of blind corridors through which thousands of Coalition jets would swarm to hit strategic targets all over Iraq.
Equipped with Land Rover s fitted with Browning machine-guns, GPMGs general-purpose machine-guns and Milan missiles, A and D Squadrons were preparing to launch their deep-penetration raids, but wondering if there was really any place for them in the midst of this hi-tech circus.
The air war already seemed to be going the way Schwarzkopf had predicted, Peter Ratcliffe wrote. Who needed Special Forces? At hours that morning Iraq fired seven Scud missiles at Israel, to be followed later by another three. Israeli casualties were, luckily, slight, but Israeli Premier Yitshak Shamir came up fighting, and demanded the right to retaliate with a hundred aircraft and a commando attack, flying across Saudi Arabian airspace. Schwarzkopfs nightmare scenario was about to unfold right before his eyes.
Each man laden with 15 stone of equipment, they patrolled 20km across flat desert to reach their objective. Within days, their location was compromised. After a fierce fire fight, they were forced to escape and evade on foot to the Syrian border. In the desperate action that followed, though stricken by hypothermia and other injuries, the patrol 'went ballistic'.
Four men were captured. Three died. Only one escaped. For the survivors, however, the worst ordeals were to come. Delivered to Baghdad, they were tortured with a savagery for which not even their intensive SAS training had prepared them.November 22, Add to Cart Add to Cart. Seven Troop: Good gripping story and easy to read. Bravo Two Zero , Transworld. This is their story. Special Air Service , Great Britain.