First blood: Weapons transport aircraft shot down, 11 crew killed

Soldiers assemble weapons in Somalia.

On March 9, 2007, a Transaviaexport Ilyushin Il-76TD aircraft, registration EW-78826, hired by the Algerian government, was expected by UGABAG1.

On board were at least two infantry fighting vehicles (BMP-2s to be exact). This was very precious cargo given that troop movement was heavily constrained by enemy sniper fire.

With such equipment, soldiers would be better protected and more mobile. The BMP-2’s 30mm autocannon, anti-tank missile-firing and night vision/infrared targeting capabilities also introduced greater firepower. It would give the Ugandan forces an edge as they sought to dominate the battlefield.

But as the aircraft, which was also loaded with bombs, came in to land at the airport, suspected anti-aircraft fire from below struck the jet.

Crippled, the jet still made a successful, if nerve-wracking, emergency landing. A blazing fire was raging from its fuselage as it came to a stop. The crew of nine Belarusians and six UPDF soldiers scrambled out unharmed.

Soldiers flee burning plane
There was a very real risk of the entire airport going up in flames if the bombs onboard the plane exploded. If that happened, the loss of the two battle wagons would be very bad for morale and quite detrimental to the mission.

There were only a handful of infantry fighting vehicles in camp as the mission force, which had been here for two days, still awaited the ship on the Indian Ocean that was carrying the contingent’s total haul of the weapons.

Therefore, the two armoured cars were prized additions to the thin fleet of light armour. Each of the two fighting vehicles was loaded with what are known as ‘First Line of Armour’ ordinance [bullets used until reinforcement is brought].

The crew and UPDF soldiers who were onboard had fled the burning aircraft upon landing. Even the Somali government soldiers, who were on guard at the airport, also took off.

The only fire extinguisher at the airport was faulty. Things were getting very desperate with each passing second. Col Charles Byanyima, who was then a major commanding the motorised infantry unit, resorted to desperate measures.

For an officer who is now enjoying the relative serenity of the army’s Nakasongola light weapons production, storage and repair facility, it was a death race against time. With five soldiers beside him, Col Byanyima started to put out the fire using sand they scooped into their shirts with their bare hands.

“I removed my shirt and told the other soldiers to also remove theirs to scoop the sand near the runaway. We were also fetching water using basins and buckets to help the situation,” Col Byanyima says.
Black smoke billowed out and covered the skies as the fire intensified and leaked its way inside the plane. The colonel and three other soldiers, including Capt David Wamboya, decided to enter the plane carrying sand and water in buckets to extinguish the fire.

Four members of the emergency team; WOI Nixon Bisimu, WOII Clovis Turinawe, Lance Corporal George Opira and Brig Kyazze joined them later.

“When we entered, it was very dark and choking. We started pouring water and sprinkling sand inside as soldiers outside were bringing more [water and sand],” he says.
After 30 minutes inside, they were able to see through the smoke up to where the bombs and BMPs were stacked. One of the fighting wagons had caught fire and looked in danger of being damaged. After five hours, the hands-on effort was able to completely extinguish the flames.

“It (the aircraft) landed at 9am and we were able put out the fire by about 2pm,” the colonel remembers.

The risks involved
But it was only temporary relief for the exhausted men. They soon discovered that they could not offload the cargo because the large ramp door at the back of the Ilyushin had been damaged and would not open.
For Col Byanyima who acknowledges today that if the fire had reached the bombs and the bullets in the fighting vehicles, it would have been disastrous, this was a fresh dilemma. Thoughts about how the bombs would have exploded, killing all of them and likely setting the airport on fire must have shifted to another compartment of his brain as he turned his attention to this new and more urgent problem.

“It was a risk we had to take because leaving that fighting equipment to burn would also be suicidal.

Remember all the weapons were on the ship in the ocean. More troops from Uganda were still deploying. The airport would have caught fire and people would run away. That would also give the enemy a chance to surround and slaughter us,” he says.

Later investigations by both the UPDF and Belarus government showed that the plane was hit by a rocket that had apparently been fired from a boat while the aircraft flew over the sea at a probable height of just 490 feet.

Al-shabaab later claimed responsibility, saying African Union peacekeepers were their target because they were an invading force. A little controversy soon followed with Somali government officials quickly denying any such terrorist attack on the plane. They insisted instead that the aircraft experienced a technical failure leading to the fire.

Kampala was contacted shortly thereafter and informed of the situation. It was decided that another Ilyushin Il-76, registered as EW-78849, set off for Somalia with technicians and equipment to cut open the wreckage of the stricken Ilyushin Il-76TD. Once open, the vital cargo could be recovered.

Nobody knew it then, but this would be the last time for the Ilyushin Il-76 to take to the skies. A terrible disaster loomed.

It took three days to cut through the wreckage and get the two prized BMP-2 amphibious infantry fighting vehicles out. The charred remains of the damaged plane were then dragged a few meters away from the runway. For a long time, people flying on incoming aircraft beheld this wreckage as some sort of macabre ‘welcoming sign’ of the ongoing violence in this land. It was time to take a rest.

Almost two weeks after this incident, it was time to say goodbye. The cutting equipment was loaded on the rescue craft and the nine crewmen were joined by the survivors from the March 9, 2007, attack and prepared to fly out at 1400hrs on March 23, 2007.

Death was lying in wait. A few minutes after the plane was airborne at an estimated altitude of 3,000 metres, some sort of surface-to-air projectile engaged it.
The army spokesman, Lt Col Paddy Ankunda, who was then a lieutenant and spokesperson of the First Battle Group, said they could only look on as the plane caught fire in the skies overhead.

The flight plan which had been filed was a refuelling stop in Djibouti before heading onwards to Minsk, Belarus. Then Somalia Interior minister Mohamed Mahamud Guled says the pilot reported a problem in engine number two, stating that he would be turning back to Mogadishu International Airport.

He was in the process of attempting to return to the airport for an emergency landing when one wing exploded, separated from the aircraft, and rapidly fell into the Indian Ocean.

For a brief moment, the rest of the badly damaged plane continued flying, on fire, along the beach at a low altitude before crashing.

Ethiopian troops camped near where the crash occurred were first to reach the wreckage. It was a deathly find around the scattered debris. The men who risked everything in order that frontline troops remained supplied were gone, dead at the hands of an unseen enemy. A dark pall would hang over UGABAG1’s encampment for days to come.

Ten of the crew members were recovered dead at the scene. An eleventh airman was located, alive but unconscious, a short distance from the crash site. He was transported to a hospital where he died the same day.

“The bodies were brought and we kept them for almost a week before they were transported back home,” says Col Byanyima.

In the circumstances, the extraction of the bodies from Mogadishu took some doing since no aeroplane could risk landing at Mogadishu Airport.

The only option was to use Baidogole Airport, about 100kms out of the city, which was under the protection of Ethiopian forces.
But driving to Baidogole presented its own headaches. This was a dangerous route prone to ambushes mounted by al shabaab brigands.

Seeking backup
Col Byanyima requisitioned five infantry fighting vehicles, including the two which were saved in the first incident, and set off for Baidogole. Not unexpectedly, they were ambushed along the way but fought their way through, determined to get the bodies on their way home.
“We beat the ambush and reached [Baidogole]. There was a plane waiting,” he says.

They spent a night at the Ethiopian base before preparing to return to Mogadishu the next day.

On their way back, they were again ambushed but the fighting vehicles showed their prowess and ability to protect onboard personnel as they returned fire and managed to break through without anyone suffering injuries.

In the coming days and weeks, a review of the situation resolved that the skies over Mogadishu had to be protected.

It would be a major blow to the mission if Amisom was to surrender control over the air to al shabaab.

To secure planes which constantly came under attack as they landed or took off from Mogadishu International Airport, a sort-of forward operating base was eventually set up at Jazeera to the south of the airport.

This base was below the flight path taken by incoming craft. Now, soldiers would patrol the coastline along which planes descended.
This over-watch job was handed to a UPDF marine unit that which deployed in 2009. Now the skies were a little safer.