‘Harassing fire’ – intermittent indiscriminate firing onto a fixed position – can achieve the hoped-for demoralisation of an enemy. Underpinning all this, their main use is to kill.
Fired singularly or in pairs, more often in groups, the more mortar bombs arriving onto a position, the more ground surface is covered, and so in this sense it is an area weapon. Such a grouping of mortars causes them to be referred to collectively and conventionally as a battery, and their fire as mortar battery fire. Their use is not the sole preserve of any one side or the other, often mortar fire is used to respond to an enemy mortar firing line. Such ‘counter battery’ (CB) fire is conducted by mortars of equal calibre. These duels, however, frequently escalate in the number of mortars employed and use of higher calibre ones for more impact at longer ranges. Because they are fired indirectly, concealed from the enemy’s observation, a Mobile Fire Controller (MFC) or ‘spotter’ gives directions and adjustments of the fall of shot onto the target. For him to do so he has to have direct line of sight onto the target, to see the rounds’ impact, how near, far, or wide, and communicate with the mortar firing line to call in the adjustments. Discovering the enemy spotter’s likely position and neutralising him is a way of disrupting the process and this makes his job a hazardous one.
Significantly, the Liege crossroads was now in Irish hands and those Gendarmerie accustomed to occupying certain houses from which they opened fire on the Irish camp got a hot reception when they found the houses occupied by the Irish at last light and fled under a hail of fire. Infuriated by the loss of Liege crossroads, a very severe mortar barrage was placed on the Irish positions during the night. Irish mortars replied and approximately 105 mortar bombs fell throughout the battle area. Trooper Sheridan and Corporal Ferguson received shrapnel wounds and Corporal Gorman received a bullet wound; three more added to A Company’s casualty roll.
The following day, 11 December, Point ‘E’, the Liege crossroads, again came under heavy mortar fire. The determined barrage impacts sent dirt flying in a wealth of noise and smoke that sucked the air out of the atmosphere, the combined effect being highly disorienting causing those on the receiving end to feel highly debilitated. The danger caused a panicked scramble for cover, to get behind something – anything – but to get some object, layer or structure between you and the incoming mortar shells; every second urgent as it might be your last, shelter always seeming too far away. Is your dugout deep enough, its top-cover sufficiently protective? Shouting, curses, heart thumping madly – ‘thud, bang’ after ‘thud, bang’ after ‘thud, bang’. Then silence. An acute silence, a momentary dizzy yet very deep silence, the only disturbance your own thoughts that surely no one else could have survived that. But is it actually over? You stir tentatively. Is it only a lull, will a misfire explode belatedly? You strain to hear the telltale whistle of further incoming shells. Nothing. You peer around, your weapon close at hand. During the barrage there were six direct hits alone on Point ‘E’. Yet amid the menacing mayhem, there were lighter moments as well, as Lieutenant Sean Norton describes:
We were dug-in, defending a strategic crossroads, with our HQ 200m to the rear. An hour before sunset we were subject to a mortar-bomb attack in the form of a creeping barrage, moving from front to rear. As the bombs came nearer [to] the HQ the personnel there were ordered to their trenches.
The first man to reach the large trench at the end of the garden was the head cook. As he was about to jump in he stopped suddenly at the entrance. This caused the others behind him to form a very agitated queue. By now the bombs were ripping up the adjoining garden fences, showering them with debris. Everybody was shouting: ‘Jump in!’ to which he replied: ‘I can’t, there’s a fucking frog in it.’ Needless to say, he was dumped head first in on top of the hapless frog, with his comrades in on top of him.
The Moral? It is not always the obvious that frightens.
Inevitably, accompanying small arms fire poured in from the area of the Tunnel itself and south of Avenue Kasenga. Captain McIntyre, B Company, received a bullet wound while his platoon were assisting A Company. Irish mortars replied.
By day three at Liege crossroads, 12 December – over forty-eight hours since the bombardment commenced – attrition began to take effect. The constant wearing down of stamina, weakening of nerve, wrecking of resolve; these and more are called into question as weariness seeps into the senses. This is where self-belief, confidence and concentration are required and four times during the night Commandant Fitzpatrick, Company Commander of A Company, called for mortar support fire to break up Gendarmerie concentrations in forward positions. Inevitably, Katangese mortars replied and incredibly, unmercifully, unimaginably, Sergeant Paddy Mulcahy was wounded again for an unlikely second time, twice in five days. Tragically these were injuries he was to die from four days later. Privates Woodcock, Desmond and Confrey also took shrapnel wounds during these mortar barrages. At last light, in order to neutralise the Katangese mortar fire, Irish battalion mortars laid down a heavy barrage on Katangese positions. Notwithstanding, intermittent mortar fire fell on all Irish positions during the night. Subsequently these mortar positions were successfully located and fired on by the Irish.
The confrontations during day three were not confined to mortar duels alone – these ongoing exchanges of indirect mortar battery fire and counter battery fire – but also direct small arms encounters with Katangese troops and vehicles. M8 Greyhound armoured cars and ‘Willys’ jeeps, with all their combined associated armament – 37mm cannon, .3 and .5 calibre HMGs thrown in for good measure – advanced towards Point ‘E’ and with grim determination were driven off by accurate fire from A Company positions. Though hard pressed at times, the Irish kept up a sustained fire, sending rounds back in the direction of the attackers, who disengaged.
A Company were now well and truly ‘blooded’. Under attack on arrival and under constant fire since, with Corporal Fallon killed and five wounded on day one, the advance and holding of Point ‘E’ was to see Sergeant Mulcahy die of his wounds and nine other assorted casualties from a mix of mortar and small arms fire. All sustained within one week. A Company had received their baptism of fire, which was to be further forged on the crucible that Point ‘E’ was turning out to be. They were proving silently heroic and resilient in the face of fierce hostility. There are many types of courage and different degrees of bravery, all in essence derived from the overcoming of fear. You do not have to have a weapon in your hand to display it; your actions are intended to help others, not to gain personal recognition. This was seen in a number of instances where individual selfless acts, ordinary in themselves but extraordinary in the time, place and circumstances performed, inspired or at least encouraged others and in this regard were significant. The injured Private Woodcock, despite his wounds and obviously in pain, vulnerable and uncertain of his prognosis, remained calm and urged that other casualties receive medical attention before him. Private James Fallon – brother of Corporal Michael Fallon – insisted on remaining with the company in theatre despite his brother’s death on day one, when it was easily understandable that he could return to Ireland. Sergeant Paddy Mulcahy – injured once – refused to leave his platoon and returned to his duties, only to put himself at risk again looking after his men and unfortunately paid the ultimate price. Private James Murray tirelessly provided food to those in exposed positions, even after having one container blown clean out of his hands by a mortar bomb, and continued to maintain an appreciated supply of cooked meals. Medical orderly Corporal Charlie Connolly – regardless of his safety – continued to attend casualties under heavy mortar and small arms fire, bringing medical aid to the wounded, despite the danger involved.
With the UN force fighting for freedom of movement, the capacity of the Katangese to provoke was not yet exhausted and they set up a further roadblock near the large Socopetrol petrol and oil depot on Avenue Usoke in order to secure fuel supplies for themselves and cut off the Irish and Swedish camps from UN Headquarters. Commandant Pat Quinlan, his namesake Lieutenant Tom Quinlan, and elements of A Company of the Jadotville Siege fame, were once again pressed into action within days of being homeward-bound. Passing through defensive fire, the Irish penetrated close to the depot and set a number of storage tanks ablaze with offensive fire.
