Riding the Baghdad express
Flying over Iraq with No. 37 Squadron was a drenching experience for
CPL Cameron Jamieson.

6RAR soldiers step off a C-130J at Baghdad International Airport. They are in Iraq to form part of the Australian Security Detachment.

Photos by CPL Cameron Jamieson

Loadmaster FSGT Gary Suthers

Loadmaster WOFF Murray George

Co-pilot FLGOFF Paul McAskill

THE HERCULES cargo aircraft materialises from the sandstorm like a ship from a fog.

I am sitting in a 4WD at an air base in south-east Iraq, momentarily protected from the clouds of dust as I wait to join the aircraft for its Baghdad run.

I was half expecting the flight to be cancelled due to the storm but there it is, sharply descending onto the Coalition airfield. Like a pelican on a lake, the large Hercules lands and pulls up quickly.

The engines are left running as a few passengers are offloaded and then there are hands waving at me telling me to get a move on and get inside.

While the wind whips around me I stagger with my bags into the cavernous hold of the mighty Hercules where willing hands grab my kit and lash it to the floor.

I take my seat along the side of the fuselage and strap in – already the aircraft is moving back to the runway. The engines roar and I lean towards the cockpit to counter the inertia as we scream into the sky.

I have been granted permission to accompany the flight to Baghdad and then back to the base. The aircraft I am riding in is one of two J model aircraft from No. 37 Squadron, based at RAAF Base Richmond.

They are in the region as part of Operation Catalyst. These aircraft regularly fly missions to Baghdad and other locations in Iraq as they move Australian and other Coalition troops and cargo.

Any memory of training flights vanish as I take in my surroundings and accept the reality of what is a dangerous situation.

I am sharing the aircraft with infantrymen from the 6th Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment who are heading to Baghdad to take over as the Australian Security Detachment. They have their body armour and helmets on with their rifles firmly grasped between their knees.

Their faces are stern as the aircraft is buffeted by ground turbulence and for a moment the seriousness overtakes.

Suddenly there is laughter, cheering and pointing and I strain to see what has happened – the first soldier to throw up is using his airsickness bag.

I look towards the rear of the aircraft to see someone who is far too busy to share the infantrymen’s humour.
Flight Sergeant Gary Suthers is one of two loadmasters assigned to the aircraft.

Seated by the starboard rear door, he is intently scanning through its window for any sign of ground fire as his thumb hovers above the firing button of his flare and chaff dispenser. The aircraft is fitted with advanced countermeasures to counter any threat, but the Mark 1 Eyeball hasn’t been made redundant yet.

I look out a window across from me and see the ground is falling away and soon FSGT Suthers leaves his window vigil and tells the passengers they can remove their helmets.

I ask him about what goes through his mind when he is watching for trouble during their takeoffs and early manoeuvring.

“You don’t have time to think about the dangers,” FSGT Suthers says.

“You’re concentrating on doing your job and getting back safely. I think about it afterwards sometimes, but it’s a daily occurrence here, so you just keep going.”

He tells me he draws strength from the aircrew camaraderie that is prevalent in the squadron.

“The pilots and loadmasters are a tight-knit group. We always look after each other and watch each other’s back.”

I also talk to Warrant Officer Murray George, the aircraft’s other loadmaster. He has served in Somalia, East Timor and in the Middle East, but still approaches the job with the enthusiasm of a teenager with his first car.

“I’ve got the best job in the world,” WOFF George says. “I’ve been doing it for 28 years and I still love my job. That’s why I keep coming back.”

The aircraft has started to descend and FSGT Suthers tells the passengers to don their helmets again. The ground is rushing towards us now and the loadmasters have resumed their vigil through their windows. The Baghdad express is approaching its target.

The cargo hold comes alive with noise as the aircraft prepares for landing. First there is a rushing sound of air as the cabin pressure is changed to suit the altitude. Then the flaps squeal as they are lowered, and always there is the rattle of aircraft fittings as potholes of ground turbulence jar the aircraft.

The gears grind as the undercarriage is lowered. This is followed by the bump and lurch as the aircraft touches down and the engines roar into full reverse. We taxi to the military parking area of Baghdad International Airport and unload the infantrymen and their equipment.

Our stay at Baghdad is short but there is enough time to meet the pilots. The aircraft captain is Flight Lieutenant Aaron Barker, who says that flying in Iraq involves the most exciting and challenging flying available to Hercules aircrews.

“It’s a fairly big aircraft and we fly it at around its maximum speed,” FLTLT Barker says. “It’s very responsive given its size, and its advanced avionics greatly help us to do our job.

“There is a lot of teamwork involved during the arrival and departure phase. I’m expecting the co-pilot to back up the captain with both the flying and the observing for threats. The loadmasters also play a big role by maintaining a picture of what’s happening around us and it’s not just anti-aircraft threats we are all watching for; terrain and obstacle avoidance are just as important.”

Flying Officer Paul McAskill is the co-pilot.

“I started flying before I joined the RAAF, but my goal was always to join because military flying appealed to me more than civilian flying,” FLGOFF McAskill says.

“It’s great to come over here and do something worthwhile. Although we’re a small contingent, we’re still moving a lot of people and equipment for both the Australian and coalition forces.”

While we have been talking, the ground crew have worked swiftly and the aircraft is ready to depart.

I am now in the observer’s seat, slightly behind and in between the two pilots as we taxi past a sand-coloured
Iroquois helicopter of the new Iraqi Air Force, some US Apache helicopters – with painted shark mouths – and more US Kiowa reconnaissance helicopters than I can count.

We turn onto the concrete runway with its centre blackened for its full length by streaks of rubber from the tyres of innumerable aircraft. The engines surge to full capacity as we launch down the runway.

As we rise into a sky darkened by an approaching dust storm, I am distracted as FLTLT Barker points to a hovering Apache helicopter to our left, its shark mouth grinning insanely at us. We bank hard to the left and I am looking straight into the backyards of Iraqi homes.

Another turn and we have levelled off, blasting across the countryside and into clouds of dust. Suddenly, I am pushed deep into my seat as we climb towards our cruising altitude. Then there is a moment of weightlessness as we nose over and fly level. The automatic pilot is engaged, but the pilots don’t relax until we leave dangerous airspace.

We leave Iraq and WOFF George climbs up to the flight deck to announce we can take off our body armour. I take mine off with surprise to see how damp it is from the sweat, brought on more by tension than by heat.

Later, as we cruise over the Persian Gulf, I can’t help but be amazed at how the aircrew can do this job day in, day out. This trip has been a sensory landslide, but for the crew, it has been just another Baghdad express trip and they’ll do it again tomorrow.

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