Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

Project Alpha

FOR MANY YEARS I HAD questioned the effectiveness of conventional bombs and rockets. Earliest doubts about the efficiency of cylindrical-shaped bombs and warheads were confirmed when I studied their effects at the conclusion of the big Air Force Weapons Display at Kutanga Range twelve years earlier, back in 1964.

Senior officers had laughed off these concerns because they had used the weapons during WWII and had nothing but praise for their efficiency. In fact one very senior WWII officer asked, “What gives a young puppy like you the right to question proven weapons?”

Whilst agreeing that they were well suited to many of the situations for which they had been designed, I was unable to convince my seniors that these same weapons were totally unsuited to counter-insurgency bush warfare. During my FAC work with jets, I watched many strikes but these only reinforced my lack of faith in both imported and homemade bombs.

For over eighteen months Canberras had been limited to using 250-pound, 500-pound and 1,000-pound bombs, none of which was effective and they all involved unacceptably high expenditure of valuable foreign currency. Everything pointed to a need for a drastic change to provide Canberras a safe and effective anti-personnel strike capability.

Although work had continued in an ongoing effort to sort out the 28-pound fragmentation bomb problem that led to the destruction of a Canberra, this weapon system could only be employed with any degree of accuracy inside the Strela missile and anti-aircraft gun envelopes. This in itself was unacceptable, but the thin line of widely spread, puny detonations running through any target was also unacceptable. What we needed was an anti-personnel weapons system that would give a Canberra clout to match its load carrying potential. For safety reasons alone, such a system had to allow Canberras to fly over the most hostile of targets below 500 feet at speeds exceeding 280 knots. If this attack profile could be achieved, it would render Strela harmless and would also substantially reduce threats from manually operated guns.

I was certain we needed a system based on large numbers of small bomblets that could be induced to spread laterally in a wide carpet over an effective strike length of at least 800 metres. Each bomblet would have to retard very rapidly to be well behind the aircraft at the moment of detonation. And, of paramount importance, each detonation had to occur above ground to ensure that shrapnel reached an enemy hiding in ground recesses and trenches.

Having read about the USAAF’s use of solid steel ball bearings to flatten sizeable sections of jungle in Vietnam, I became interested in the idea of producing spherical bomblets. High-speed, low-level deliveries of enormous quantities of three-inch steel balls released from Phantom jets had been used to clear thick jungle vegetation. What really caught my eye in the USAAF article was the fact that balls spread themselves laterally during their short flight to ground.

One foundry in Salisbury and another in Bulawayo produced thousands of round balls for me. Because I was in a hurry and needed to keep costs down, the lead balls they manufactured were crudely made. The bag and string system I employed to release clusters of two-inch and three-inch lead balls from a Canberra, flying at 300 knots at 500 feet, was just as crude. No wonder the Canberra crews were not at all impressed with ‘PB playing high-speed marbles’ but I needed, and got, answers from the drop tests. Firstly, it was clear that turbulence from leading balls forced those following in their wake to move sideways. Instead of striking ground in a straight thin line, a random scattering of both two-inch and three-inch lead balls occurred along the attack-line; some as far as forty metres either side of centre. Secondly, the balls left long grooves in the Kutanga Range sandveld but every one of them lifted back into flight and thirdly, the balls retained lethal velocity way beyond first contact with ground.

I was encouraged by these results and was considering where to go from there when providence took a hand. Senior Staff Officer Air Armaments, Squadron Leader Ron Dyer, was my right-hand man in all air weapons projects. Immediately after our crude tests he brought his predecessor, retired Squadron Leader Ken Gibson, to see me in my office Ken was then working for the engineering firm that manufactured our locally designed bombs and Frantans. Because he knew something of what Ron Dyer and I were doing, Ken had come to Air HQ to give us wonderful news.

An engineer who had recently joined the company was studying the 28-pound fragmentation bomb problems with the managing director of the company who had designed the system in the first place. The specific problem they were studying concerned safety of nose fuses which, though designed to activate bombs just above ground level, had been responsible for the premature detonation that killed two officers and destroyed a Canberra.

Ken told us that when the new engineer learned of the importance of airburst, he said it might be easier and safer to produce round bombs that would find ground level for themselves. The ground impact would initiate a delay fuse as the bomb bounced back into flight to detonation at a chosen height, just as we had been considering. Ken Gibson could not have brought better news and I set off immediately with Ron to visit the company.

For convenience the managing director of the company, whom I had know for some years, will be referred to as Denzil and the man with the new ideas, Bev. We were introduced to Bev whom I took to immediately. We had a long discussion during which he said the bouncing-bomb idea was no more than that—just an idea. I told him why I favoured this approach and why I had been testing spheres to facilitate low, safe and accurate delivery with maximum lateral distribution. Since Bev had no experience with bombs or bombing and did not know any of the inherent dangers involved, he needed to learn about the operational requirements for the Canberra, as I saw them. I told him of my experiences and the reasons I wanted to move away from conventional bombs.

Explanation was given as to why cylindrical bombs suffered too many weaknesses in bush warfare situations. The primary weakness of cylindrical bombs and warheads is that, when they burst, shrapnel is driven out at ninety degrees to their longitudinal axis. To be wholly efficient against enemy personnel, a cylindrical bomb needs to be about six feet above ground and vertically oriented at the moment of detonation, but even when dropping bombs from very high levels the vertical attitude cannot be achieved and accuracy is poor.

If the same detonation occurs when the bomb is horizontal, it is at its least efficient angle because only a narrow band of shrapnel strikes ground at ninety degrees to the bomb’s longitudinal axis. The remaining 95% of the ground around the bomb is unaffected; yet paradoxically this is the situation that occurs when bombs are dropped at low level to ensure high accuracy.

Being streamlined, bombs descend directly under the delivering aircraft until they have fallen some 2,000 feet clear. Thereafter drag and the progressive nose-down pitch cause bombs to slowly trail behind the bomber. But a safe separation height can never be less than 2,000 feet to avoid damage, and even destruction, from large weapons detonating directly below the delivering aircraft.

In our case this meant that, for accuracy to be assured, the Canberras would have to pass over target in perfect range of missiles and guns. The alternative was to bomb from great height and accept both loss of accuracy and the fact that cloud could limit windows of opportunity for strikes. Neither of these situations was acceptable. Another unacceptable issue, no matter the bombing height, was that large gaps in a string of bombs left too much ground uncovered.

An inherent problem with conventional bomb design is the need for tail cones and stabiliser fins that are costly and occupy potentially useful space in a bomb bay. Spherical bombs are quite different. They do not poses wasteful appendages, nor do they suffer orientation problems. A spherical bomb bursting above ground will consistently deliver shrapnel through 360 degrees in all directions but always lose half into the air.

Delivered in clusters, spherical bomblets moving through air at high speed create high-turbulence wakes that induces lateral movement to following bomblets. Moreover, high drag on every bomblet causes rapid deceleration from the moment of release. Another important advantage is the natural tendency of round bombs striking the ground at shallow angles to skip back into flight, making airburst possible. Admiral Nelson used this principle to good effect against enemy ships by skipping round cannon shell off water to improve the chance of gaining waterline damage.

Having understood these explanations, Denzil and Bev were eager to assist us develop a spherical cluster-bomb system for Canberras because it was agreed that such a system was within the technical competence and capacity of the company. Denzil kindly undertook the initial research work at his company’s expense and I opened a project file marked ‘Project Alpha’. Projects that followed were Projects Bravo, Charlie, Delta, etc.

Bev considered it necessary to use a central spherical bombcore fashioned from 8mm steel plate to house the explosive charge and a multi-directional delay-fuse. This fuse would initiate a pyrotechnic delaytrain and without regard to the orientation of a bomblet when it struck ground. The central core was to be encased within a larger 3mm steel sphere with many super-rubber balls tightly packed between the inner and outer casing.

The purpose of super-rubber balls was to allow the inner core to compress them on impact with ground, thereby creating a latent energy source that would enhance a round bomblet’s natural tendency to bounce into flight. At the time we did not see that the rubber interface would be giving bomblets vitally important secondary characteristics. One was an inherent ability to absorb sharp shock loads on the fuse if a bomblet was inadvertently dropped onto concrete during handling and loading.

A variety of tests were conducted to prove prototype bomblets’ ability to recover off ground even when dropped vertically from a helicopter at great height. When we were certain we had a worthwhile project on our hands, I went to the Air Force Commander’s office late one afternoon with an eight-inch bomblet in my hands.

Having explained the design, I held the ball at waist height and asked Air Marshal McLaren to watch how the bomb recovered into the air after impacting the ground, whereupon I released the ball onto his office carpet. His reaction to the metallic clang was not what I expected and I do not think he even noticed the bounce. “Get that confounded object out of this office. You have six weeks in which to produce your system for full load strikes by four Canberras.” I was astounded by such a quick decision and said, “Sir, there is no money budgeted to meet your instruction!”

Mick McLaren was known for his ability to come to quick decisions. His reply was typical. “You concern yourself with technical matters and I will take care of the money. I am counting on you for success. You have six weeks to do the job, so get cracking!”

Air Marshal McLaren was the first Air Force Commander not to have serviced in WWll, so he had a flexible attitude towards weapons in general. He had studied every ASR and had called for detailed post-operational studies of Canberra bombing effects following a number of strikes in a variety of bush conditions. I was not involved in any of these studies but had read every report. None that he received gave the Commander any reason to be satisfied with cylindrical bomb efficiency. Without him actually admitting it, he agreed with what I had been saying for many months and obviously liked the spherical bomblet concept as the means by which to make his Canberra fleet effective. I suspect that Group Captain Norman Walsh may have had a hand in influencing the Commander’s opinion on the need for a cluster-bomb system.

I made a telephone call to Denzil and told him we had ‘green light’ on the Alpha Project and that Ron and I would be around to see him immediately. Denzil and Bev were waiting for us in the company boardroom together with the company’s accountant and a third engineer. Our excitement was somewhat tempered by the realisation that a project of this nature, if undertaken in the USA, would require many millions of dollars, involve many engineers and would take no less than five years to complete.

With only six weeks to finalise research and development and produce four complete carriage and release systems along with hundreds of bomblets, it was obvious we had to make final but correct decisions right away. Denzil did some preliminary calculations that made it clear that cutting of metal had to start next day. In turn this meant we had to finalise the specific dimensions of both inner and outer casings at this very meeting so that preparation for half-sphere presses could be initiated that night.

Canberra bomb-bay drawings were spread out on the boardroom table to confirm preliminary designs generated during our earlier work. I had to specify the number of bomblets in a single load so that Denzil and Bev could calculate final bomblet dimensions. For convenience we had already started referring to the bomblets as Alpha bombs (Project Alpha) and I gave the operational requirement as 400 Alpha bombs to be released from eight independent containers, which we named ‘hoppers’.

The engineers quickly sketched profiles of four units comprising two hoppers each to establish the internal volume of each hopper. Having done this, they established that the external diameter of each Alpha bomb would be 155mm. From this the size of the rubber balls and inner bomb core were also determined.

The very next day preparations were in hand to press the metal blanks into half spheres. By Day Three the welding of half-spheres for inner cores and outer casings was already under way. The first hundred outer casings were taken off-line and filled with concrete for initial proving trials.

At New Sarum Warrant Officer John Cubbitt had his Drawing Office staff busy finalising the hoppers design and within two days Station Workshops were fabricating prototypes for preliminary drop trials of the concrete-flled Alpha bomblets. The concrete units approximated very closely to the calculated final weight of explosive ones.

At my insistence flight trials commenced with the fitment of a camera into a Canberra bomb bay to record the release characteristics of the old 28-pound bombs from the ‘bomb box’ unit. The bombs we used were practice units that had the same shape and ballistic characteristics as live ones. Two full-load tests of ninety-six bombs each were made. In addition to the bomb-bay camera, each drop trial was filmed from a formating Vampire.

What we saw was very disturbing. Bombs exiting the bomb box into the very high turbulent airflow, particularly at the rear of the bomb bay, gyrated, tumbled and jostled with each other. Some bombs were even blown back into their compartments before emerging again to join other wildly twirling and twisting bombs. Why film recordings such as these had not been made and studied previously, I cannot say; but it made us realise that the Board of inquiry into the Canberra disaster had not come up with the correct reason for the premature detonation that destroyed the Canberra.

First drop tests of the Alpha bombs were recorded in the same way and we were delighted to see how cleanly they dropped away and how rapidly they spread out and trailed back from the aircraft. Because the concrete Alphas suffered little damage on impact, we were able to gather them up for repeat drop trials, including releases at low level. All low-level runs were filmed from the bomb bay, by a chase Vampire and from the ground. The results were very encouraging. Impact with the ground was occurring well behind the aircraft, lateral spread was better than expected and every unit skipped back into flight.

Bev had designed and produced a small number of multidirectional fuses for first non-explosive trials. Our first live trial only involved five Alphas fitted with delay fuses amongst concrete units. No explosive was included to allow post-strike inspection of each fuse. Two of these fired instantly on impact with the ground, two functioned correctly and one failed to fire. Inspection of the latter showed that the initiating cap had fired but the delay link failed to transfer to the detonator cap. In the case of the two instantaneous bursts, initiating caps’ flame had flashed past the delay links directly to the detonator caps.

Modifications and rectification followed rapidly and we were soon testing whole clusters of Alphas charged with explosive. During this time we established that the Alpha bomblets exhibited two unexpected but highly desirable characteristics due to the rubber balls interface. The first was discovered when one bomblet had been deliberately detonated in the midst of a pyramid of unexploded bomblets (UXBs). It failed to cause a sympathetic detonation of any of the other bomblets as occurs with other explosive units—our problem was to find the widely scattered survivors for independent destruction. The second peculiarity was that we were finding hundreds of thin 20mmround shrapnel pieces that propelled like spinning saws and sliced their way into the hardest of trees. Formed by the 147 rubber balls that pressed out discs from the outer casing they spun like crazy saws aligned with their direction of flight.

By the seventh week, one week behind schedule, the engineers were totally exhausted from their intense work schedule and many sleepless nights. However, we were ready to demonstrate to the Air Staff a full-scale Alpha strike on a 1,200 x 200-metre target that had been prepared by the Range Warden, ‘Kutanga Mac’. Hundreds of cardboard and steel targets were set above ground and in trenches throughout the length and breadth of the target.

OC 5 Squadron, Randy du Rand, had not been too interested in our work at the start of Project Alpha, probably the consequence of my early tests with lead balls. However, once the project started to show positive results, nobody could have given greater support and assistance to the project team than Randy.

The Commander and his senior staff officers flew to Kutanga Range to witness the demonstration and see for themselves if the Alpha system was ready for ‘the real thing’. The project team had witnessed many trials but this was to be the first full-scale drop. We had reduced the original 400 Alphas per Canberra load down to 300 to facilitate easy loading and because we had come to realise that the reduced load covered a greater strike length than the original 800 metres we had set for ourselves. The 25% cost savings was not the reason for the reduction, but it was a huge bonus.

There was great anticipation and mounting excitement as Squadron Leader Randy du Rand opened his bomb doors late on his run-in at 400 feet at a speed of 300 knots. None of the Air Staff expected such a spectacle of dust and multiple airburst flashes as 300 bomblets did their thing. That the Alphas were bursting at perfect height well behind the Canberra was obvious to all before the sound of the explosions reached the observation point. This came as a thrilling continuous thundering of overlapping explosions.

The Commander was quite overcome by what he witnessed and showed it by shouting, “Bloody marvellous. Absolutely bloody marvellous!” Everyone present congratulated everyone else before we all set off to walk the full length of the prepared target area.

First inspection made it clear that the Alpha bomb system was just what we needed. When the visitors left, the project team commenced the detailed study that showed that the effective coverage of 300 Alphas was 1,100 metres in length by 120 metres in width. We had achieved more than we planned for! Fourteen unexploded bombs (UXBs) were defused for inspection in our ongoing attempts to reach 100% efficiency but, with 5% bomblet failures, the system already rated slightly better than the USA and UK guidelines for acceptable UXB rates in any cluster-bomb system.

The important thing was that the Alpha system was cleared for operations and the Canberra had been given the antipersonnel punch it deserved. Training of crews had been done but it was considered necessary to prepare for formation attacks, initially by three Canberras. This involved flying a very flat echelon with the aircraft spaced 100 metres apart. In this way a strike length of better than 1,000 metres and a width exceeding 300 metres could be assured. The reason for the very shallow echelon was to make certain that formating aircraft did not fall back into the curtain of shrapnel rising from the exploding bombs dropped by adjacent aircraft.

Pyrotechnics and boosted rockets

TARGET MARKING BY FIXED-WING aircraft using phosphorus rockets had been on going and all Army units carried smoke grenades and flares to mark FLOT and enemy positions. However, helicopters lacked the ability to put down markers from which to give other aircraft and ground troops direction. Rocket launchers were considered but discounted on the basis of weight and the fact that they would hinder rapid emplaning and deplaning of troops. Normal smoke grenades were unsuitable because they disintegrated when dropped from height.

I read all ASRs and, having noted pilot requests for a longduration, pyrotechnic marker device, I took this on as a project to run concurrently with the Alpha Project. Besides, there was another pyrotechnic project already in hand for a RAMS requirement.

Air Force technicians at New Sarum had recently developed a ground marker system for night bombing by Canberras. The system, known as RAMS (Radio Activated Marker Service), involved two ground flares, one of which was ignited by a radio receiver in response to a coded signal from an attacking aircraft. The other flare was manually ignited by troops on the ground. The purpose of RAMS was to give ground troops the ability to call for precision bombing of CT targets at night. This involved placing one flare as an inner marker within 300-500 metres of a live target. Having placed the inner (radio activated) marker, a bearing was taken from it to the centre of the target. The second (manually activated) flare was then sited as an outer marker on a reciprocal bearing that might be as much as 1,000 metres from the target.

To prepare for a RAMS attack, a Canberra crew needed a fairly accurate grid reference of the target itself, the magnetic bearing from outer flare to inner flare and the distance from inner flare to target. For this type of attack, bomb-aimers (Canberra navigators) used a method known as ‘off-set aiming’. It involved calculating the difference between the normal direct aiming angle at the planned bombing height and the steeper angle given by the inner flare position. The bombsight was then depressed to the calculated ‘off-set’ angle. There was nothing to prevent a reciprocal attack-line being used, in which case the sighting angle would be shallow, but it was more comfortable to over-fly the outer marker before bomb release.

When approaching target on the assigned attack heading, the pilot instructed the Army callsign to activate the outer flare for initial line-up. Thereafter the coded radio signal from the aircraft ignited the inner flare on the ground. Final adjustment to flight path was made to ensure correct alignment of the aircraft with the flares and bombs which were released the moment the bombsight crossbar reached the inner marker. 5 Squadron had practised and perfected the offset bombing system, all of which had been done at fairly high level.

Randy du Rand was happy enough with the existing RAMS system but felt it necessary to improve on the intensity of the flares for low-level night attacks. He was looking ahead, having visualised the need to use the proven offset bombing method for low-level delivery of Alpha bombs. Randy’s initiative was surprising on two counts. Firstly, the Alpha system had not yet been proven when he asked for brighter flares and, secondly, the new flares only became available in the nick of time for Randy’s first night attack with Alphas.

Bev introduced me to an eccentric American pyromaniac who revelled in flames, smoke and big bangs. He was an extremely difficult man to give direction to because he kept going off at a tangent to any subject being discussed. Nevertheless, he was a real boffin when it came to producing prototype smoke generators and immensely bright flares.

Bev made the steel containers into which the American loaded his concoctions. When we were satisfied with results we asked for repeat samples, but none gave identical results because the crazy fool kept changing ingredients without ever recording them. To pin him down was impossible and he refused point-blank to allow Bev to assist him so that Bev could establish precisely what chemicals were being used, and in what quantities. Much messing around occurred before it was realised that the man, already receiving good money for his work, sought to make a fortune from his secrets; so he was dropped, but not before Bev had established the primary chemical ingredients he had used.

It took some time for Bev to perfect a very robust smoke generator for helicopters to use as a ground-marker device. These manually activated generators were dropped over the side of helicopters from as high as 1,500 feet above ground, which subjected them to immense impact forces. It was essential to ensure each unit could survive high-speed collision with solid rock and still generate three minutes’ worth of dense white smoke. Many failures occurred and it took many weeks before reliable smoke markers became available.

A modification to the pyrotechnic composition for existing RAMS flares achieved the intensity of flame Randy sought. Here again much trial and error was involved along the way and without Bev’s incredible effort and technical expertise we would not have been ready for the first low-level night attack on Madula Pan. This attack will be discussed shortly.

One simple project Ron Dyer and I took on was to rectify the poor returns Lynx pilots were getting from their 37mm Sneb rockets. All we had to do was ask our engineering colleagues to manufacture in steel the same extension tubes used for phosphorus marker rockets. These tubes were then filled with RDX-TNT.

Tests showed the heavier 37mm (boosted) rockets were noticeably slower in flight than the lighter smoke markers, but they were just as stable. More importantly the shrapnel effect of boosted 37mm SNEB showed a ten-fold improvement over standard ones. Thousands of 37mm extension pieces were produced and filled at Thornhill over the next three years.

CS pellets

MOST FIREFORCE ACTIONS OCCURRED ON hills, in forested areas and riverine vegetation because this is where CTs enjoyed best cover. Most of the hills (kopjes) possessed huge granite boulders and vast granite surfaces. When CTs managed to get into good cover between or under granite boulders they became a dangerous menace and were almost impossible to flush out. Cannon fire and Frantans were seldom effective and too many soldiers were killed or wounded when attempting to kill or dislodge them. On two occasions I recall dogs attempting to flush men from hiding but they were killed.

I considered many possibilities in trying to find a way to incapacitate or force CTs into the open and even looked into firing rockets or dropping containers filled with anaesthetising fluid, but none of these ideas was practical. Then I came upon information about talc pellets impregnated with CS (teargas). I cannot recall where I read about this but remember the effects CS pellets exhibited on trials.

Teargas grenades employ a pyrotechnic cake from which CS is released when the charge burns. The resultant gas is hot and initially visible but its spread tends to be upward and the resultant gas cloud is wholly subject to wind drift. Irritation effects are short-lived and affect some people more than others. Dogs can tolerate CS gas because they do not possess the irritable sweat glands of human skin. CS pellets act differently in that they release invisible gas over a long period of time. The unheated heavier-than-air gas spreads out at ground level and migrates into every nook and cranny. Above all its presence makes it quite impossible for any human to remain where pellets are present.

I discussed the matter with John de Villiers and Vernon Joynt of CSIR and asked if they could produce CS pellets. They liked the concept and thought it possible providing they could establish a suitable talc powder binder to form pellets. I left the problem with them and returned to Rhodesia to design and manufacture an appropriate dispenser that would disperse the pellets over large areas. The dispensers worked well but unfortunately the CS pellets never materialised because CSIR had more urgent matters to attend to.

Hispano cannons for Scouts

THE SELOUS SCOUTS HAD EXTENDED their roles beyond pseudo operations within and outside the country. During May and June 1976 they conducted vehicle-borne operations across the border into Mozambique. On one excursion, they went into the Gaza Province in an attempt to stem the tide of ZANLA forces that were using the road and rail from Maputo to Malvernia. Air support for this operation was limited to one Alouette for casualty evacuation and one Lynx flying at great height to act as a radio relay between the ‘flying column’ inside Mozambique and the Scouts’ forward HQ inside Rhodesia.

For over a year Selous Scouts’ over-border operations had been conducted with the clear understanding that no air support would be given, even if the units ran into lifethreatening situations. This restriction applied equally to operations in Botswana and Zambia. Even after the new President of Mozambique, Samora Machel, closed the border with Rhodesia on 3 March 1976 and vowed to provide full support to ZANLA, the ‘no air support’ ruling remained. Machel’s statements were, in effect, a declaration of war, but this made no difference. Political restraints on the external use of air support were almost certainly intended to keep international pressure off Prime Minister Vorster; otherwise we might have experienced further disruptions in our supplies from RSA.

This situation was no less frustrating for the men on the ground than it was for the Air Force. We knew that Scouts had suffered the loss of Sergeant-Major Jannie Nel, killed at Mapai on 26 June 1976. In the same action, Lieutenants Dale Collett and Tim Bax were seriously wounded. Tim recovered after many months, but Dale’s bullet wound confined him to a wheelchair for life. Although I did not know the exact details, the lack of air support and possible limitation in ground firepower led me to make a telephone call to Ron Reid-Daly.

Some time in April 1976, I had approached Major Brian Robinson at his SAS HQ to ask him if he was interested in 16 of our 20mm Hispano cannons that had been removed from four time-expired Vampires. Considering the great weight of these guns and the nature of SAS operations, Brian could see no use for them at the time, but he did not close the door on the offer. My approach to Ron Reid-Daly met with a totally different response because he was in urgent need of improved firepower for his mobile columns operating in Mozambique.

Within an hour of the call I met with Captain Rob Warraker and a small group of Selous Scouts territorial engineers at New Sarum. With Air Force armourers and myself, the Scouts engineers lay under a Vampire to be shown how the cannons were mounted on swinging arms that allowed them to rock backwards under recoil, and forwards from the press of sturdy rear-mounted springs. This rocking action was used to retain a powerful spring in the BFM (belt-feed mechanism) that was fitted next to the cannon. The BFM was the essential component that pulled the heavy ammunition belt from the ammunition-bay and fed rounds into the gun’s breach.

Air Force had considered mounting the cannons in purposemade swivel platforms for vehicles assigned to airfield defence, so we had a good idea of what technical work needed doing. The Scouts engineers picked up the ideas immediately and Rob Warraker, fearing we may change our minds, hastily left with the four cannon and 20,000 rounds of ammunition he signed for. In no time at all the Scouts completed the mountings and finalised range testing. Three vehicles were fitted with these cannons for a forthcoming external operation against a large base in Mozambique where ZANLA groups were assembled, armed and briefed before being launched into the Thrasher area.

Captured CTs repeatedly referred to ‘Pungwe Base’, which they said was sited on the banks of the Pungwe River, but photo-reconnaissance along this large east-flowing river failed to find anything. Then, quite by chance, Squadron Leader Randy du Rand was returning from an unrelated Canberra task when he happened to fly directly over Pungwe Base. His navigator spotted the large camp through an opening in the cloud and rolled the cameras just before cloud obscured the ground again.

When the JSPIS interpreters at New Sarum viewed the photographs of this large base, they were astounded to see hundreds of people gathered in a box formation around a flagpole in the centre of a large parade ground. What excited them was the fact that the flagpole itself stood at the centre of an outline of Rhodesia that was fashioned from whitewashed rocks. The word ZIMBABWE, also laid out in painted rocks, clearly identified the base as belonging to ZANLA.

Ron Reid-Daly was delighted with the Air Force find that gave final proof of the large number of ZANLA in residence. The location of this base was not on the Pungwe River as reported but was on one of its south-flowing tributaries, the Nhazonia River, also known as Nyadzonya. With the position of the Pungwe Base established, the Canberra squadron flew repeated photographic sorties to monitor developments. These showed that base occupancy was increasing daily. Captured CTs continued to indicate that this was ZANLA’s primary base and their hand sketches confirmed the base layout, including the whitewashed outline of Rhodesia surrounding the word ZIMBABWE, also structure from whitewashed rocks.

After much detailed planning for another ‘flying column’ assault, a Scouts force was authorised to attack the Nyadzonya base. But again, direct air support was disallowed. The attack was a huge success and something in excess of 2,000 armed ZANLA, plus a few FRELIMO, were killed, wounded or drowned in the Nyadzonya River. The barrage of light and heavy automatic gunfire, including high-explosive rounds from two Hispano cannons, had been devastating. (The third vehicle fitted with a Hispano cannon met with misfortune just before the raid was launched.)

Only when the column was under attack from FRELIMO very close to the border during exfiltration, was air assistance authorised. A pair of Hunters flown by Flight Lieutenant Abrams and Air Sub-Lieutenant Lowrie neutralised troublesome FRELIMO mortar and gun-emplacements in failing light. A helicopter collected the most serious of four wounded men and a Lynx, flown by Air Lieutenant Ray Bolton assisted the column by choosing the best route for it to bundubash its way to safety inside Rhodesia.

A Canberra photo-recce sortie was run over Nyadzonya after the attack. The resulting photographs revealed hundreds of bodies strewn across the parade ground, between the many burnt-out buildings, and in the adjacent bush. As our politicians had feared, but expected, the international press reported the action as a slaughter of innocent refugees—ZANLA having registered Nyadzonya and all its other bases as refugee centres.

For years Rhodesia had suffered bad international press at the hands of unscrupulous sensation-seeking reporters and photographers. Even before ZANLA became effective, British reporters deliberately produced misleading articles that were supported by concocted photographs. For instance, one reporter and his photographer threw coins and sweets into rubbish bins to induce children they had gathered together into frenzied scrambling for prizes in what the children believed was a lovely game. Photographs appearing in overseas newspapers showed ‘starving children scrambling for food on the streets of Salisbury’.

For years the residents of Salisbury had been used to the sight of many black office workers taking a lunchtime nap on the lawns of Cecil Square, a small park in central Salisbury. Overseas photographers recorded this common sight. Next day photographs appeared in UK papers under the banner headline ‘Slaughter of innocents by the Smith regime’.

Mixed events

1976 HAD BEEN A YEAR OF mixed events. Robert Mugabe had been installed as President of ZANU. South Africa was under increased pressure from the West following a civil uprising in Soweto. Dr Henry Kissinger, the US Secretary of State, visited South Africa as the somewhat reluctant conveyer of a joint American and British proposal for a suicidal change in political direction by Rhodesia. By highlighting western concern over the Soweto tragedy and manipulating South Africa’s power over Rhodesia, the ‘Kissinger Proposals’ were forced on our country by both Kissinger and Vorster. One component of these proposals was for the Rhodesian Government to participate in negotiations with ZANU and ZAPU in what was to become the Geneva Conference. Both ZANU and ZAPU had been pressurised into accepting the ‘Kissinger Proposals’ by the Frontline States though they disliked the conditions as much as the Rhodesian Government. Anyway the Geneva Conference, chaired by Britain’s lacklustre Ivor Richard, ended in total failure.

During the year the Air Force lost men and machines in offensive actions and accidents. Without exception they were superb individuals whose loss emphasised the sheer wastefulness of war and the high cost in lives from accidents associated with war.

On 16 February, Squadron Leader Rusty Routledge was killed when a young SAAF pilot attempted to overshoot his overloaded Cessna 185, following a botched approach for landing at Perrem Airfield near Umtali. The aircraft stalled at low level and all three souls on board died when it ploughed into the ground.

On 10 June, following a FRELIMO cross-border attack on Zona Tea Estate inside Rhodesia, a Hunter flown by Flight Lieutenant Tudor Thomas received a fluke bullet strike during a rocket attack on offending forces at Espungabera in Mozambique. The bullet severed a hydraulic line resulting in the loss of all hydraulic fluid. In fading light Tudor returned to Thornhill where the OC Flying Wing, Wing Commander Keith Corrans, ordered him to abandon his aircraft. This was because Keith did not want Tudor to attempt a very fast, flapless landing at night with his flight controls in manual mode and too many other associated problems. Main undercarriage legs were drooped but not locked whereas the nose wheel was down and locked. In addition the air brake was half-extended and full left aileron was needed to hold wings level at 210 knots. Undoubtedly the slightest error would have been fatal.

Tudor positioned wide downwind for runway 13, trimmed fully nose-down and ejected. As intended, the Hunter crashed in open farmlands and Tudor escaped with little more than a bruised back. The loss of this Hunter was devastating because it reduced our Hunter strength to ten aircraft.

On 13 June 1976, a Z-Car gunner (name forgotten) was killed whilst firing at CTs in a Fireforce action. Then on 18 July, air-gunner Sergeant J.P. Graham was killed in the same way in the Inyanga area. Six weeks later, on 1 September, airgunner Sergeant Belsted was killed in yet another Fireforce action in a helicopter flown by Flight Lieutenant Ian Harvey.

Flight Lieutenant ‘Starry’ Stevens died the very next day when he flew into an air ambush deliberately prepared by FRELIMO forces acting in support of their ZANLA colleagues. A group of CTs made their presence purposely known to induce a hot-pursuit operation into Mozambique. Their path ran along the base of a 1,200-foot-high west-to-east ridge along which FRELIMO had set up a number of heavycalibre anti-aircraft guns to take on aircraft they knew would come. Starry’s Lynx stood no chance as it passed close to and level with the guns.

On 11 August, as a direct result of the Selous Scouts attack on Nyadzonya, FRELIMO retaliated by mounting a mortar attack on the city of Umtali. Superficial damage was caused to buildings in the eastern suburbs of Greenside and Darlington. Fortunately, not a single casualty was reported and very little structural damage occurred.

On 21 October, Flight Lieutenant Roy Hulley was flying a Vampire FB9 on a routine gunnery sortie at Kutanga Range. He had completed a pass on his target and was running low-level on the downwind leg to position for another attack when his aircraft suddenly dived into the ground, narrowly missing the tented base of a small Army training camp. It was assumed that Roy might have been reaching for something he had dropped on the cockpit floor because there was no other explanation for this sad occurrence. It seems more likely, however, that seat-locking on the height adjusting mechanism disengaged in turbulence dropping the seat so low as to place Roy’s eyes below the cockpit combing. This technical difficulty became well known before the FB9s were withdrawn from service.

Larger groups of CTs were crossing the border when, on 15 November, a Fireforce action in the Honde Valley resulted in one CT group being cornered on a long, heavily forested hill. At the end of a long day of fighting, thirty-one CT bodies were counted. This was the largest number of kills in a single internal action to date. Regrettably, three weeks later this action brought about a CT reprisal with the murder of twentyseven workers on nearby Katiyo Tea Estate.

Although brutal murders by CTs were commonplace, this one was unusual and difficult to understand, because the victims were Mozambican migrant workers. FRELIMO had made it clear to ZANLA that Mozambican people were royal game, never to be touched, no matter where they were. Yet the CT gang visited this workers’ compound after sunset and went about their business in their usual way.

They rounded everyone up and, whilst getting high on dagga (marijuana), they demanded and consumed all the food and beer the villagers possessed. The headman was then tied up and forced to kneel in the sight of all his followers. Death only followed after the helpless old man had been forced to eat his own ears and nose which, despite his screams for mercy, had been brutally hacked from his head. His lips were then cut off before the fatal thrust of a bayonet released him from his agony. Not content, the CTs grabbed a baby from its mother and ordered another woman to batter the child to death with a stick. The horrified mother saw this all happening before she was raped by every CT and then bayoneted to death. Only then did indiscriminate firing kill another twenty-four innocent souls together with all their prized cattle.

On a lighter note, I received visitations from a few Americans during the year. One of these was an arms dealer. He was a neat, dapper, dark-haired fellow whose good looks and quiet manner gave no hint of his sadistic nature. He hoped to interest me in a new type of bullet that he could supply for any calibre ammunition of my choosing. The 8mm rounds he showed me looked and felt quite normal. However, the projectile consisted of a light outer casing within which were tiny tightly packed steel slivers. The American told me that upon impact with anything, the casing yielded and released the slivers in a highenergy, fan-like shower. A single strike anywhere on a human body created such trauma that death was virtually guaranteed. The man told of this awful killing device with such passion and enjoyed the gory supporting photographs so much, that he had my blood boiling. I kicked him out of my office saying we had no interest in such dastardly devices. However, when he was gone, I wondered why I had been so put out by the man and this style of killing when I myself was so tied up in developing and producing a whole range of very unpleasant killing devices.

Another American who visited me must have done the Dale Carnegie course that teaches one to remember names by association. Knowing I was called PB, he obviously linked my name to fuel because, when he spotted me at the end of a long corridor a year later, he shouted at the top of his voice, “Hi there Shell.”

At about this time I met a very different type of American. Bob Cleaves came to my office with Ian Player, brother of the world-famous golfer Gary Player. Bob Cleaves’s purpose in regularly visiting South Africa and Rhodesia lay with his wildlife interests. However, Ian Player, a noted wildlife man from Natal, had brought Bob to Air HQ at Bob’s request. Bob was both very pro-Rhodesia and fiercely anti-communist so, with his good connections in the USA, he wondered if there was anything that he could do to help us. I asked him for samples of three things. Gyro-stabilised binoculars for visual recce, intensified-light night-vision binoculars for night recce and bulletproof vests for aircrew protection. All of these were delivered when Bob came back again six months later.

A strange incident occurred on 17 December 1977 when CTs mounted an attack on FAF 8 and the Army base that was also sited on Grand Reef Airfield. A long time prior to this, a project proposal by armourers at Thornhill was brought to me. This was to arrest enemy mortar bombs in heavy diamond-mesh fencing stretched above the roofless protection pens in which our aircraft parked at forward airfields. I was very sceptical initially, but the armourers proved their theory by successfully arresting a number of captured 82mm mortar bombs, none of which detonated. In consequence all forward airfields had the appropriate heavy netting stretched out high above aircraft pens.

When I heard that mortar bombs had been used against Grand Reef, I flew down immediately without waiting for details. On arrival I spoke to Flight Lieutenant Rob McGregor who was FAF Commander and was disappointed to learn from him that none of the bombs had come down over the aircraft pens. Nevertheless, it was interesting to see how the CT group, which had been specially trained and briefed for this job, had botched it.

The group, consisting of about forty men armed with AK-47 assault rifles, RPD machine-guns, RPG rocket-launchers and another six men with a single 82mm mortar tube, approached Grand Reef under cover of darkness. All the CTs carried mortar bombs, which were dropped off with the mortar crew who set up about forty metres behind the left flank of the main line. In this line the men set up next to a cattle fence that ran parallel to the runway. Just 150 metres from their position, across the runway, lay the Army camp with the Air force camp adjoining its right side.

All guns opened up together, sending a hail of bullets towards both bases. Rob McGregor told of the incredible noise and brilliant display of red and green tracer bullets, most of which went over the camp. The CTs may have been overexcited or blinded by their own tracers because, considering the weight of fire, amazingly few rounds hit their intended targets, though a few RPG 2 rockets detonated on sandbag protection walls.

In the meanwhile the CT mortar crew, launching bombs as fast as they could, were oblivious to the incredible cock-up they were making, simply because they had been too lazy to bring along the heavy but all-important base-plate for their mortar tube. The first mortar bomb landed in the Army camp, killing an unfortunate soldier, Signaller Obert Zvechibwe, whose body was found lying under his bed. With the launching of this bomb the mortar tube, without a base-plate to distribute the heavy shock-load, bedded into the ground. With each successive firing, the tube bedded deeper and deeper causing the tube angle to progressively steepen. The consequence of this was that the second bomb fell short of the Army camp and every bomb thereafter moved further from target and ever closer to the line of CTs still firing their guns along the fence line. When the angle of the tube was close to vertical, bombs fell amongst the CT gunners, killing two and seriously wounding others. Panic set in because the men believed the mortar bombs were coming from the Army camp. The attack broke off and the CTs ran for their lives, leaving their wounded to crawl away unaided.

Vic Cook

ON 20 DECEMBER 1976, THERE WAS a lucky escape due to brave and aggressive actions by Flight Lieutenant Vic Cook. Vic was a quiet character who was often ribbed by his colleagues for appearing to be a bit dozy. An example of this occurred when he was in his second-floor bedroom at his parents’ home. He was awakened after midnight by the sound of someone creeping up the staircase. Arming himself with a baseball bat, Vic waited for the intruder to come through the door then laid a genuine thief low with a mighty blow to the throat. He then called the police. When asked how he knew this was not one of his parents coming to his room, Vic said he had not considered that possibility.

In the Op Repulse area, Vic was flying a G-Car with Corporal Finch Bellringer and an army medical orderly en route to casevac black civilians who had been injured by CTs near Malapati. He was some way short of the Army callsign to which he was going when he came under intensive smallarms fire that severed his tail-rotor drive shaft. This is a situation that every helicopter pilot dreads. During the short period of the forced-landing, the helicopter continued taking hits. Vic was struck in the foot, though he did not know this at the time, and his technician was rendered semi-conscious by two rounds that struck his ‘bulletproof’ vest.

Vic did very well to retain some semblance of control as the aircraft drove sideways through trees. He spotted terrorists “as many as a rugby team” with five directly ahead; all were firing at him. He aimed for the group of five and came to an abrupt halt amongst them, but this was smack-bang in the centre of the other CTs. With the force of impact, Vic’s head was thrown forward onto the cyclic control column. Though stunned and hurt, he was able to pull out his MPK sub-machine-gun from under his seat only to discover it had been rendered useless by a bullet strike. Surprisingly, though the battered rotor blades were stationary, the engine was still running when Vic jumped out of the aircraft. He wrestled a terrorist, injured by the crashing helicopter, for his AK-47 and shot him dead.

Still under fire, Vic opened up on the CTs forcing them to run for cover before assisting the shaken but uninjured medical orderly to pull the incapacitated technician out of the aircraft and into cover. Once he was certain that his tech and the medic were safe, he went back to the dead CT, firing as he went, to collect all the CT’s ammunition. He then attempted to move from cover to cover firing at CT movements, but he found that he kept tripping and falling. Only then did he notice the large bullet gash in his foot, so Vic assumed a good position on a small rise from which he succeeded in holding the CTs off until help arrived forty-five minutes later. Vic received the Silver Cross of Rhodesia for his determination to protect his tech and the medic in very adverse conditions when he himself was hurt and under near-continuous fire.

After Vic left the force he worked for the South African Electricity Supply Commission. In the mid-1990s he was involved in a fatal accident when laying new power-line cables. Vic’s task was to pull lead lines over the high electric pylons which heavy ground winches then used to draw the heavy cables into position. Precisely what went wrong I do not know other than the ground anchor point of one lead line broke loose and recoiled towards the helicopter where it became entangled in the tail-rotor causing the crash that killed Vic Cook.

SAS externals

FOR SOME TIME DURING THE second half of 1976, the Special Air Service squadron was employed in the Repulse area and participated in a number of Fireforce actions. Although there was urgent need for experienced soldiers in the south at the time, use of the SAS inside the country was an incredible waste of their specialist skills.

Nevertheless, on 22 September, the first use of a Dakota in support of Fireforce was made possible because all the SAS were para-trained. The ground action was controlled from a K-Car by Major Brian Robinson who, because of his eighteen paratroopers, had more than double the number of troops that would normally have been available to a four-G-Car Fireforce.

In another SAS Fireforce action on 10 October, Brian Robinson was flying with Flight Lieutenant Ken Law in a KCar. They were fortunate to have Cocky Benecke supporting in a Lynx. Cocky found a group of CTs hiding under bush 1,500 metres away from where troops had been deployed. This initiated actions with other CT groups scattered about in the same vicinity. The Dakota flying in support of Fireforce was called upon to drop its load of twenty SAS paratroopers, which was a task made easy because the KCar was able to mark the drop-line with the first of our newly developed smoke markers. Happily Cocky Benecke was the first pilot to be armed with boosted 37mm rockets that gave spectacular returns. Between himself in his Lynx and Sergeant Merber firing the K-Car’s cannon, they accounted for fourteen CTs.

Whilst they were still in the Repulse area, the SAS were used for a pre-planned attack on a ZANLA staging camp known as Mavue Base, which was just over the border inside Mozambique and a little south of the wide slow-flowing Sabi River. Again Brian Robinson was in K-Car, this time with Mike Borlace who was leading another K-Car, and five helicopter troopers.

The OC SAS seemed to be present in a number of Air Force ‘firsts’. This time it was the first live Alpha bomb attack by three Canberras. The operation did not go too well for many reasons, the greater of which was that the Canberras missed their assigned targets because the Hunters responsible for marking for the bombers had misidentified the base centres. Mike Borlace in his ASR said that, this had been a great pity because, having seen an Alpha bomb attack for the first time, the CTs, who were in both bases in great numbers, would have suffered high casualties had the strikes been on target.

Three Dakotas dropping SAS troops west, south and east of the target from 500 feet were all observed to have airburst explosions around them. In their descent to ground, the paratroopers experienced plenty of ground fire and airbursts. Because there were ground explosions preceding the airbursts, it was assumed that ZANLA had employed their TNT and stick grenade ‘air ambush’ system.

Brave and accurate boosted rocket and Frantan attacks by Air Lieutenants Clive Ward and Mike Delport flying Lynx took care of troublesome anti-aircraft fire. The SAS conducted a sweep through the target but apart from capturing large quantities of equipment that had not been destroyed during Hunter re-strikes; they found only thirty-two CTs dead. From an SAS point of view, this was less than they were used to achieving in Tete with a handful of four-man callsigns.

Shortly after this action, increased infiltrations down the old Tete routes into the Hurricane area forced the SAS back to the style of operations that suited them best. They returned to the Tete Province of Mozambique south of the Zambezi to take on both FRELIMO and ZANLA. Air involvement in support of SAS operations remained low-key until 1977.

SAS hit-and-run tactics had been developed to such a degree that the small four-man offensive units had, themselves, become the elusive terrorists within Mozambique. They had learned how to keep out of trouble whilst meting out hell and destruction in no small measure. Apart from the odd casevac, helicopters only flew in to recover four-man patrols to Rhodesia. Dakotas were used in HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) deployment of two or more sticks from high altitude necessitating the use of oxygen until the free-fallers actually left the aircraft. HALO deployments were usually made just after sunset, and on the whole seemed to go unnoticed. Dakotas were also used occasionally at night to resupply the ground units.

The SAS were so successful that ZANLA and FRELIMO were forced to abandon forward bases and move right back to the FRELIMO main base town, Tete. Undeterred by the fact that the enemy had moved so far from the Rhodesian border, the SAS worked on the fact that ZANLA would have to cover the increased distances to the Rhodesian border by vehicle, and this offered new possibilities.

To circumvent the problem of working too far to the north of the border and too close to Tete town, the SAS decided to turn things around by using the newly formed Lake Cabora Bassa as a safe haven. Canoes were to become their means of transport, thereby turning the direction of attack southwards. Villages that used to be on the banks of the Zambezi River had disappeared under water and most of the population had moved miles away. No one was living in the ground beyond the lake’s southern shoreline but ZANLA and FRELIMO were committed to using the few roadways that ran through remote countryside some distance farther south.

Only three four-man callsigns were used and they played merry havoc against an enemy that could not understand where their problems were coming from. Whereas the men in the canoes, nicknamed ‘Cockleshell Heroes’, gained most of their ammunition resupply from captured equipment and had plenty of water when not too far from the lake during their offensive forays. On the lake they needed regular resupply, which came in by Dakota at night.

I managed to tag along on one of these midnight flights. Together with spares, some canoe components and ration packs to be para-dropped were hampers of fresh hot food and other perishable delicacies prepared at SAS’s Kabrit Barracks just before we climbed aboard the Dakota. For me, this was a great change from project work and I had not been airborne at night since the Lynx ferry twelve months earlier.

Flight Lieutenant Bob d’Hotmann was the skipper with Flight Lieutenant Bruce Collocott as his second ‘dicky. I was standing between and behind the pilots watching proceedings with interest whilst squeezed against an SAS officer who I think might have been Scotty McCormack. Initially Bob could not raise the callsign whose position was on a tiny island fairly close to the southern shoreline almost due north of Nova Mague. The night was clear and very black. Even though the lake was vaguely illuminated by starlight it was insufficient to pick out any island, even from our height of only 500 feet.

Then we spotted a flashing strobe light that stood out so clearly from the air it seemed impossible that the SAS position would not be compromised. Scotty said it was OK because the strobe would be so positioned that nobody on the shoreline would see it. We had turned towards the strobe when the callsign came up loud and clear. Because the aircraft was heading directly for the strobe, all that needed to be said from the ground controller was “Red light on…. Green light on”. The pannier was launched into the night; and that was that! The callsign confirmed that he had received resupply, thanked Bob and bid him farewell.

The descent to the lake had been a long one at low power. Bob had been at pains to ease on the power very gently as he approached his run-in height so that nobody on the ground would detect any change in engine note that might give away the SAS position. Having completed the drop, Bob held heading and height for at least ten kilometres and even then he powered up very slowly, allowing the Dak to drift gently upwards, again to avoid drawing attention. We were miles past the Cockleshell Heroes before turning for Salisbury.

Canberras join Fireforce

SEVEN DAYS AFTER FIRST USE of Alpha bombs in Mozambique, Randy du Rand and his navigator, Flight Lieutenant Terry Bennett, got airborne from Buffalo Range in support of the Repulse Fireforce. This came about because Randy was keen to gain operational experience with the new weapon system and I needed plenty of feedback on bomblets’ performance. The idea of deploying a Canberra to Repulse was greeted with enthusiasm by Tol Janeke because it had become abundantly clear that, as expected, ZANLA’s main thrust was coming through the Gaza Province of Mozambique.

Under guidance from a K-Car, a cluster of fifty Alpha bombs was delivered and all landed in the base from which eight CTs had moved immediately upon hearing the approaching KCar. Squadron Leader Graham Cronshaw in the K-Car and the Army callsign who had called for Fireforce reported being thoroughly shaken by the sight and sound of the Alpha strike, even though it was only one sixth of a full load.

The Army callsign swept through the CT base and confirmed shrapnel had saturated it. Although the bombs had killed no CTs, who were a short distance away, the effect of the strike so unnerved the eight members of this group that they surrendered without a shot being fired. Randy remained the heavy arm of Fireforce for a while and was able to prove the Canberra’s ability to bring quick and accurate strikes to bear wherever they were needed, because K-Cars could place down reference markers with their new smoke grenades. Having satisfied himself, Randy rotated each of his squadron crews to Op Repulse to gain experience.

During November a ZANLA base in Mozambique close to the border was positively identified by Canberra photo-recce. An operation similar the one at Mavue was planned but, due to good features around the target, three Canberras led the strike for maximum surprise. They made the attack from 500 feet at a release speed of 300 knots. The strike went in just before the arrival of the heli-borne and para force and all the bombs landed on target as planned. Instead of arriving over a subdued enemy however, the helicopters faced a hornet’s nest of alert and angry ZANLA firing many small arms and heavy AA guns.

Following some brave action to silence the AA guns, particularly by Mike Borlace, troops eventually overran the base and found the reason for the Canberra’s failure to provide any subduing effect. All but two of the Alpha bombs had broken through a crust of sand and buried in thick wet clay before exploding harmlessly below the surface. The whole target area was covered with black bomblet craters. Two bomblets that struck trees caused the airbursts that accounted for only the three ZANLA killed in the airstrike.

There was deep consternation at Air HQ and within my project team. We had not foreseen this problem, which was entirely my own fault. I knew how similar ground conditions in the Zambezi Valley had presented the Army with serious vehicle movement difficulties. Following heavy rains, such as had occurred in the area of this target, the softened sand crust above damp clay yielded without warning. When this occurred, vehicles sank to their axles and other vehicles attempting to pull out a stricken one usually ended up in the same mess.

Although I should have foreseen the problem earlier, I was certain that the correct combination of delivery height and speed would prevent further failures, no matter the nature of surface. So we immediately set about finding a test location close to Salisbury where sufficient clay, hard ground and water existed in close proximity to each other. The place we selected was a small dam at Inkomo Range. We used concrete Alpha bomblets, knowing that live ones would perform better.

Randy du Rand and Terry Bennett flew the same attack profile they used on the failed attack and dropped a cluster of fifty concrete Alpha bombs. They were bang on target and those that struck dry ground recovered into flight normally. All the bomblets that landed on water and most that landed on sand-covered clay disappeared below the surface. Those few that struck sand over clay yet found their way up to the surface were coated with a thick layer of gluey black muck.

The next delivery was made from 400 feet at a ground release speed of 300 knots, giving marginally improved results. Delivery height was then stepped down to 300 feet, again at 300 knots. Most of the bomblets bounced back into flight from mud and water, though some of the units that landed in mud were so thickly coated that their recovery was way too low and sluggish. Three runs were then made at 300 feet at 350 knots. All bombs bounced into flight though the ones from clay did not rise as high as from water and normal ground.

From then on 300 feet was the preferred attack height at an attack speed of 350 knots, which still provided adequate separation between detonating bomblets and the aircraft. However, the increased attack speed presented a major problem in terms of airframe fatigue factoring. Fortunately the Canberra could accelerate from 280 knots to 350 knots very rapidly, which minimised the time spent at attack speed. Nevertheless the high fatigue factor applied for this speed converted three minutes to something in the order of one hour of expended airframe life.

Inevitably with so many bomblets being dropped, there were some unexploded units (UXBs). A total failure rate of around 3% was either caused by technical problems or by bomblets passing through vegetation that progressively decelerated them to such an extent that they failed to realise the 100G-impact force needed to activate pistols. All bomblets were painted red to simplify UXB collection and soldiers had been advised that they were perfectly safe to handle and transport. So it was with some alarm that they learned of a UXB that had killed two African children and wounded another.

I immediately went to the scene of the tragedy and noticed that the bomblet in question had exploded on a solid flat section of granite with large boulders around it. Near the point of explosion, I saw red paint marks at different places on the flat rock and came to the conclusion that the children had been throwing the bomblet from the boulders above.

The surviving little boy in hospital confirmed this. He was lucky because, being fearful of his friends’ attempts to break the ‘ball’ open, he had watched from a distance as the others climbed small boulders to throw the bomblet onto the flat rock. His friends could not crack the unit open so they went up onto the highest rock. The bomblet pistol received the necessary G load and bang went their lives.

Yellow Submarine

SELOUS SCOUTS WERE COMMITTED TO using noisy vehicles and experienced a variety of difficulties in their attempts to render the rail line from Maputo to the border town of Malvernia inoperable. Then, whilst they were working on this difficult task, they noticed that a yellow Alouette III came up the rail line from Maputo and turned northwards along the Cabora Bassa power-line. Radio intercepts on FRELIMO’s radio network soon established that this was a regular run for a Maputo-based engineer to inspect a section of the power-lines running from Cabora Bassa to South Africa. Intercepted messages also showed that all FRELIMO posts were told not to shoot at the yellow Alouette. Ron Reid-Daly approached Norman Walsh to see if Air HQ would consider painting one of our own Alouettes canary yellow so that rail and train destruction parties and recce teams could fly unchallenged directly to their selected targets. Norman sorted this out without delay and John Blythe-Wood flew the aircraft, nicknamed ‘Yellow Submarine’, from its secret covers at New Sarum for a night flight to the Selous Scouts forward HQ. The rail wreckers enjoyed a trouble-free period until FRELIMO finally tumbled to what was happening.

Schulie

CAPTAIN CHRIS SCHULENBURG, KNOWN AS Schulie, served with the RLI and SAS until he returned to his native South Africa when his contract with the Army expired. He was later invited by Ron Reid-Daly to re-join the Rhodesian forces for service with the Selous Scouts to exploit his special talent in ground reconnaissance conducted in the manner Schulie considered essential.

Arising from his specialist recce work with the SAS, Schulie had been awarded the Silver Cross of Rhodesia for valour—but he could not buckle down to SAS four-man recce principles. Schulie wanted to conduct recce on his own, believing this to be safer and more efficient. Ron Reid-Daly was more amenable to this view than the SAS; though Ron insisted that one man, of Schulie’s own choosing, must always accompany him. Somewhat reluctantly Schulie agreed and conducted a number of successful two-man recce patrols. Initially he used a white soldier as his partner until he came to the conclusion that a black soldier was a more sensible option. The reconnaissance forays worked well enough and neither man suffered undue stress until things went badly wrong early in November 1976.

Two recce teams were tasked to provide early warning of FRELIMO and CT movements for a Selous Scouts vehicleborne force. At an appropriate time these teams were to harass FRELIMO—a diversionary tactic. One team worked north of the Scouts force while Schulie and his partner worked to the south. Schulie and his black companion (Steven was the name I heard the helicopter crews use) had descended into Mozambique by HALO entry. They were in position when the vehicle-borne force was moving in to attack the ZANLA staging base at Jorge do Limpopo on the Maputo rail line to Rhodesia. When he judged the time was right, Schulie deliberately made his presence known to FRELIMO but, in so doing, he attracted much greater reaction than he expected. Using Claymore and other anti-personnel devices, Schulie inflicted serious casualties on his pursuers who became so angry that they re-doubled their efforts and force levels in a determined attempt to take out the troublesome Rhodesians running through the bush ahead of them.

Schulie and Steven became separated during their running retreat under fire. Thanks to superb strength and fitness, Schulie managed to evade the large force that had no difficulty following his tracks in the soft dry sand of the region. By nightfall FRELIMO slowed to a crawl but no radio contact could be made with Schulie and Steven so Selous Scouts approached Air HQ for assistance. Late at night Schulie was barely able to give his position to the high-flying Canberra sent to find him because his radio batteries were almost flat. It was only then that Selous Scouts learned that Steven, who did not have a radio, was missing.

I heard the story of Schulie’s hot extraction from the helicopter crew who rescued him. Although I cannot remember who they were, their story remains clear in my memory.

The pick-up at first light occurred when the FRELIMO follow-up force was dangerously close to the open pan where Schulie said he would be waiting. Heavy fire was directed at the helicopter during entry and exit from the pick-up point. Once clear the pilot flew low over bush heading for the railway line. On reaching it he flew just far enough away to keep the railway in sight. Schulie was not too happy about this but the pilot refused to move away, which turned out to be very fortunate. Some distance on a man on the line was seen to be jumping up and down waving a white object over his head. When close enough, Schulie realised this was Steven. He was many miles from where Schulie had last seen him, yet there he was waving his map madly.

The pilot said that Schulie was so overcome with relief and joy that he leapt out of the aircraft before touch-down and ran up to Steven to give him a powerful hug that lifted the lighterbuilt man clean off his feet. Once inside the helicopter, Schulie unceremoniously commandeered the aircrew water bottle and poured it down his companion’s parched throat. Thereafter the two Scouts looked at each other laughing and occasionally patting each other in expressions of immeasurable friendship and relief. This was the same team that was called upon to mark a major ZANLA target for an Alpha bomb night attack by a formation of Canberras.

Madula Pan

RADIO INTERCEPTS GAVE WARNING OF a large group of ZANLA CTs in transit to Rhodesia. It was established that they would be at Madula Pan on the night of 11/12 January 1977. This pan lay close to and south of the main Maputo rail line and air reconnaissance photos confirmed the location as having been used by previous groups. It was no more than a transit point without shelters of any kind but it covered a large expanse of bush at the southeastern edge of the almost dry Madula Pan.

The size of the Madula Pan target required a formation attack by three Canberras to cover the entire rest-up area. Randy du Rand was keen to conduct the attack at night to ensure maximum surprise at a time when all CTs could be expected to be in their base. So Schulie and Captain Rob Warraker met with 5 Squadron, Norman Walsh and me to discuss and plan the strike. Schulie’s role was twofold; to confirm ZANLA was resident in the expected position and to position RAMS and outer marker flares for the Canberra strike.

A large tree on the southern edge of the pan was selected for the RAMS inner flare. This looked like a good site in terms of distance from target and bush cover to shield the bright light when the flare ignited shortly before strike. Selecting a position for the outer flare, which Schulie would ignite manually, was no easy matter. The density of bush and trees on a back-bearing from the inner marker was fairly even, which would make identification of a specific position very difficult. Eventually a particular group of trees was chosen which Schulie felt he should be able to find in the forecast weather condition of halfmoon and a clear sky.

A first-light follow-up attack was to be made at 05:00 by an RLI Fireforce with paratroopers. This meant the airstrike needed to be made as late as possible. But since it was known that CTs tended to rise at 04:00 and disperse for fear of dawn attacks, 04:00 was the time chosen to strike. A delay of one hour between airstrike and ground follow-up was not ideal but it was considered acceptable. An extra Canberra with a full Alpha load, two pairs of Hunters and two Lynx were to be on airborne standby to assist Fireforce.

Because there was time to do so, it was decided that a realistic rehearsal should be conducted at 04:00 on 6 January in similar terrain inside Rhodesia. This was to familiarise Schulie with the handling and positioning the flares and to allow Randy to practise the low-level formation attack. Following their flight from New Sarum to the NDB at Chiredzi, the Canberra formation planned to descend to its IP at 2,000 feet above ground. From the IP, the formation would accelerate to 350 knots during a second descent to their attack height where Randy would be at 300 feet above ground with his two wingmen stepped up 100 and 200 feet above him and spaced 100 metres to his left and right. Schulie, acting alone, made a HALO descent during the evening before the practice strike into an area that was known to contain CTs near the selected target. He laid the flares and the Canberras strike went in as planned.

Rob Warraker flew with me to Boli airstrip in a Cessna 185 where we were collected by the G-Car that took us the short distance to meet up with Schulie and twenty RLI paratroopers who had been dropped at 05:00. Just before landing at Boli, Rob and I had seen the Dakota that had dropped the RLI paratroopers passing us on its way back to Buffalo Range.

We inspected the Alpha strike from the air and on the ground and saw that all bomblets had landed on target. Schulie was satisfied with his side of the exercise but said that, although he had received Randy loud and clear on his radio when the Canberra formation was approaching at high altitude, there had been difficulty in hearing Randy’s instruction to light the outer flare during the low-level run toward the target. We decided that this would not be a problem for Madula Pan because the fourth Canberra could act as a radio relay back-up between Randy and Schulie. This extra Canberra could also light the inner marker RAMS if Randy was unable to do so.

From the practice site, Schulie accompanied Rob and me for the short helicopter ride back to my Cessna at Boli. Both Rob and Schulie were huge men and Schulie also had his parachute and heavy Bergen. My aircraft was carrying a high fuel load because we had planned to fly directly to New Sarum for a debriefing with 5 Squadron. But even the nippy little Cessna struggled to make take-off speed with so much weight on board and I had a few anxious moments skimming very low over trees with the speed failing to build up in the very hot conditions that prevailed. A gentle fall of ground helped us slip off the ‘drag step’ and we were soon climbing comfortably on course for Salisbury.

When I checked in with FAF 7 to say we were climbing out, I was asked if I had heard or seen the Dakota, then three hours overdue. We diverted to Buffalo Range immediately to participate in the air search that was being mounted. I had just reached the airfield when we were told that a survivor had just reached a working party in the sugar-cane fields and reported that the Dakota had crashed on the banks of a large river; presumably the Lundi.

I dropped Rob and Schulie off at the Selous Scouts Fort at Buffalo Range and turned back immediately to search the Lundi River. It did not take long to find the Dakota on the south bank. The aircraft was broken in two with the cockpit smashed to bits and its rear fuselage lying under a large tree.

On recall from his civilian job for ‘retread’ duties, Squadron Leader Peter Barnett, the previous OC of 3 Squadron, had been second ‘dickey’ to Flight Lieutenant Dave Mallet who had joined our Air Force from the RAF. According to survivors, Peter had objected when Dave descended to fly lowlevel just above the surface of the Lundi. Whatever the verbal exchanges, heavy electrical power-lines running across the river from unseen pylons amongst trees on both high banks, sliced through the cockpit windscreen and decapitated both pilots.

Two bulkheads immediately behind the pilots’ seats arrested the cables. This saved the life of the flight engineer who was standing behind the pilots. The aircraft decelerated down to stalling speed before the power-lines on the starboard side sheared, causing the aircraft to be dragged left by the binding cable into trees above the riverbank. Fortunately there was no fire, but Army Corporal A. Bradley was killed in the ensuing crash. Four men survived with relatively minor injuries due to the fact that the aircraft had cleared the riverbank itself and had been subject to sufficient bush-drag to soften deceleration.

Madula Pan attack

ON THE NIGHT OF 10 JANUARY, Schulie and Steven did a HALO descent well to the south of Madula Pan and made their initial approach to target before dawn. They lay in hiding for the day then, under cover of darkness before moonrise, made a final approach for Steven to crawl right up to the edge of the base to ensure that ZANLA was in residence. Having listened to many noisy conversations, all spoken in Shona, Steven moved back to Schulie who passed the word back to Scouts HQ.

Schulie positioned the RAMS flare without difculty. Around about 03:00 he was close to calling for a postponement of the strike because he could not find the selected clump of trees for the second flare. With little time to spare he eventually identified the spot and set up.

Flying his Canberra at about 30,000 feet, Flight Lieutenant Ian Donaldson with the callsign Green 4, made radio contact with Schulie at 03:45 and received confirmation that all systems were ‘go’. Flying with Don were his navigator, Dave Hawkes, and Captain Rob Warraker the Selous Scouts operations co-ordinator. Ian had taken off from Buffalo Range where he was currently part of the local Fireforce. Green Leader with Green 2 and 3 had taken off from New Sarum and were flying 20,000 feet lower than Ian.

Randy du Rand was leading with Mike Ronnie, No 2 was Al Bruce with Doug Pasea and No 3 was Ted Brent with Jim Russell. Randy’s ASR reads:

The significance of Randy’s last paragraph will become apparent shortly.

Schulie and Steven had heard the deep rumble from the open bomb bays then saw the aircraft brightly illuminated by the outer flare as they flashed over their position. Even at two kilometres from the ZANLA base, the roar that came to Schulie and Steven from multiple Alpha bomb explosions impressed the two Scouts enormously.

Whilst they waited for the flare to stop burning, Schulie heard the Canberras climbing and turning for Salisbury. Then the sound of human screaming and shouting came across the quiet bush from the ZANLA camp. Schulie had to recover both flares for burial well away from Madula Pan. As he did this, he realised that ZANLA had taken a pounding because of the troubled noises that continued to reach him. He was well out of the way by the time the helicopters arrived with the assault force.

From what they had heard from the high-flying Canberra the lead K-Car crew, carrying assault force commander Captain Richard Pomford, expected to oversee a simple mopping-up operation. Instead they were met by anti-aircraft fire of such intensity that they had to back off and call for the Hunters to strike. At the same time, Ian Donaldson, who was about to turn back to Buffalo Range in the reserve Canberra, was asked to give assistance.

Ian made a high-rate descent and, for a reason that will never be known for certain, broke through low stratus cloud directly over Malvernia. It must have had something to do with canopy misting following the dive from the freezing conditions at high altitude into warm air with both engine throttles closed. This, coupled with a glaring sunrise ahead of the aircraft flight line, might have been the reason Don did not see the railway line which, had he done so, he would undoubtedly have avoided.

Rhodesian forces based at Vila Salazar just across the border from Malvernia witnessed extremely heavy anti-aircraft fire with masses of tracer being directed at the Canberra before it rolled sharply and dived into the ground from where a huge fireball was seen to rise. Ian Donaldson, Dave Hawkes and Rob Warraker died instantly.

The FRELIMO force at Malvernia had obviously been aware of the air attack at Madula Pan and was fully alerted when Ian inadvertently passed over them in perfect range for every one of many heavy and light guns. Some airbursts were seen which suggests RPG rockets may also have been launched at the aircraft.

Back at Madula Pan, fire from the ground continued to be so intense that the helicopters and Dakota retained their troops, hoping for the Canberra and Hunters to make a difference. They did not know of the Canberra’s fate at the time. However, Selous Scouts Major Bert Sachse, flying as an observer in a Lynx, had watched a number of Hunter strikes before he realised what had gone wrong. His assessment was later confirmed by radio intercepts on FRELIMO’s command channels.

A large FRELIMO mobile force happened to have spent the night very close to Madula Pan on the road running next to the railway line. These troops were mounting their vehicles to continue their journey when they heard the bomb strike go in on Madula Pan. The whole force turned to investigate and give assistance to their ZANLA comrades who they knew were based at Madula Pan. They arrived before first light to find ZANLA had suffered many casualties and were in a state of panic and disarray. In addition to aiding the wounded, FRELIMO prepared defences for the assault they knew would come with the dawn.

In the face of this unexpected opposition by a force that was obviously much larger than his own, Richard Pomford called off the assault to avoid unnecessary casualties and Randy returned with three Canberras to deliver eighteen 500-pound bombs onto the target for good measure. He would have much preferred to deliver that load onto Malvernia in response to the downing of one of his Canberras; but airstrikes on any Mozambican town were taboo.

First radio intercepts reported that ZANLA had suffered six dead and seventy wounded during the night attack. These figures were later updated by FRELIMO with final figures being ten dead and 102 wounded from a force of 120 CTs at Madula Pan. The majority of wounded were described as ‘amputees’, having lost limbs.

Five months after this, the RLI parachuted into Madula Pan in support of Selous Scouts who were mauling ZANLA and FRELIMO forces close by. It was interesting to learn from them that, though there were no ZANLA in residence at the time, the whole camp area was littered with many human skulls and bones. Presumably these were mainly from FRELIMO men caught in the Hunter and Canberra attacks.

The Air Force reaction to first casualty reports on the Madula strike was one of great disappointment, particularly by Randy du Rand. We had become so preoccupied with kills that wounding was almost totally discounted in assessing airstrike effectiveness. Randy even advocated reverting to the conventional bombs that we knew did little more than cost us dearly in precious foreign currency.

I was very distressed by all of this until Group Captain Norman Walsh told Air Marshal McLaren that he believed the Alpha bombs had done a much better job than anyone realised. His opinion was later fully supported by the Army and Special Branch who expressed a different viewpoint from that initially expounded by many Air Force officers. Selous Scouts were the first to expand on this view in writing. Ron Reid-Daly’s contention was that the Alpha bombs had done a much better job by inflicting 90% living casualties with 10% kills than would have been the case if the figures were reversed. Air Staff opinion changed but Randy remained sceptical.

The Scouts recognised that dead CTs were either abandoned or buried and forgotten whereas the living wounded presented an unwanted burden by tying up other forces and vehicles in long-range evacuation to rear hospitals. Along the way other CTs and FRELIMO would see these casualties returning from the border, creating a negative impact on morale. Mozambique’s medical facilities had become totally overstretched and CTs with missing limbs and tall war stories had to be cared for. This all created a dilemma for ZANLA who kept war invalids in separate camps away from other cadres.

The Air Force Commander made it clear that he was delighted with the first Madula Pan strike because it was our best single result to date. It had cost a fraction of the followup air weapons costs with no foreign currency implications. However his greatest concern at that time was to recover the bodies and bomblets from the downed Canberra, providing this could be done without further loss of life.

For three days the Army made a number of attempts to get to the crash site but vastly superior FRELIMO forces, hellbent on protecting a prize that lay so tantalisingly close to our border, repelled these attempts.

Then radio intercepts revealed that the bodies had been found, large quantities of ‘ball bombs’ had been collected and, together with Canberra wreckage, all was being loaded on vehicles for transfer to Maputo. In consequence, recovery attempts were called off.

When we were still developing Alpha bombs, Bev and I decided to stamp the fuses with Chinese hieroglyphics that translated to ‘Made in North Korea’. Whatever the FRELIMO Government made of this when they studied bomblets, later piled next to aircraft wreckage, is not known but national radio and media coverage gave out that the bomblets had been manufactured in the ‘Racist Republic of South Africa’ and that the aircraft had been ‘a gift to the enemy from the British Colonialist Government’.

Going back to the Alpha Project again—we had produced bomblets that would not detonate sympathetically if one happened to be set off by, say, an enemy bullet. Only a 100G shock could activate a pistol. Both characteristics gave protection against enemy fire and inadvertent mishandling of bomblets. In the case of Ian Donaldson’s crash, the Canberra fuselage had absorbed so much of the shock loading on impact that not a single bomblet had detonated; which is why all 300 ended up in Maputo.

New Frantans

MY PROJECT TEAM HAD SUCCEEDED in its most pressing task of providing the Canberras with an effective anti-personnel strike capability. By January 1977 we were already engaged in a number of new projects. These ran concurrently, imposing a huge load on Denzil and Bev who were still heavily involved in the production of Alpha bombs, officially designated Mk2 Fragmentation bombs. In spite of this they had been more than willing to take on new developmental work. Projects Bravo and Delta (pyrotechnics and 37mm Sneb boosters) had been finalised. Next priorities, Projects Echo and Foxtrot, were for new Frantans and high-pressure bombs.

To provide the Lynx with an effective Frantan, we chose to move away from conventional napalm bomb designs. All those in use in the western world were simply metal tanks, most with small fins designed to pitch the unit nose-down at the moment of release to ensure positive separation from the aircraft. Otherwise, none possessed flight stabiliser fins.

After release, the tanks behaved in haphazard ways causing them to follow unpredictable trajectories. Tumbling, flying sideways, oscillating and corkscrewing were characteristics that set napalm aside from aimable bombs and made accurate delivery difficult. For instance, if two tanks were released together, with one pitching nose-down and another nose-up, they could land so far apart that one might fall short of target whilst the other passed over.

When Americans took on a target they dropped four or more napalm bombs from each of a number of aircraft to saturate large areas with flame and intense heat. Absolute accuracy and high costs did not bother them whereas we needed units that would follow a repeatable trajectory to make each unit aimable, accurate and highly effective. This meant we had to produce an aerodynamically shaped unit with low drag characteristics for carriage, but incorporating efficient stabiliser fins to ensure longitudinal stability for clean release and alignment in free flight.

Metal containers were no good, as we had witnessed on hundreds of occasions. Burster charges coupled with unpredictable case rupture resulted in equally unpredictable distribution of burning napgel. Too often large quantities of the gel remained inside partially burst tanks or sticky blobs of unburned gel lay all over the ground and stuck to vegetation. This was no good at all! I decided we needed tanks that would shatter like glass on impact to free their entire gel contents in a huge fan-like spray of tiny droplets with inter-linking volatile gas. I had learned that the Hunter disposable long-range tanks were constructed from fibres with phenolic resin and that they shattered on impact. We followed this line and produced casings moulded from woven glass fibre and chopped asbestos set in a phenolic resin binder.

Prototype sixteen-gallon units were made and fitted with Alpha bomb fuses (suitably modified to function at low-impact levels) imbedded in the large pocket of flash-compound that ignited the napgel. From Day One the new Frantans were a great success and, with small modifications, were cleared for operational use on Lynx and Provosts.

Hunters used imported spun-aluminium fifty-gallon Frantans but these suffered all the limitations we sought to overcome. So I arranged comparative trials between our lowcost sixteen-gallon Frantan and the very costly imported fiftygallon units. The results were astounding. The Hunter pilots were able to deliver the local unit with great accuracy. In itself this was pleasing, but even more satisfying was the fact that the local unit, though only possessing one third of the napgel contents of a fifty-gallon unit, provided consistent coverage of ground that equalled the best of the imported variety. Foreign currency saving was another bonus.

Golf Project

IN PROJECT FOXTROT WE ATTEMPTED to produce fuel-air explosive (FAE) bombs, which American military journalists described as having ‘near-nuclear’ effect. One military article was supported by dramatic photographic records of the total destruction of an old US naval destroyer from just one of these FAE bombs. However, destruction of ships was not America’s real interest in FAE. The weapon had been developed to clear large pathways through enemy minefields by detonating hidden mines with excessive over-pressure of ground.

Ethylene oxide was the medium we employed. There were two reasons for the choice of this liquid gas. Firstly, it explodes with as little as 2% of air inclusion and as much as 95% of air inclusion, whereas most other gases will only detonate within a very narrow gas to air ratio. The second advantage of ethylene oxide is that, when ignited, it produces gas volumes many times greater than any high-speed explosive, such as TNT.

Each American FAE bomb was dropped at relatively low level and descended to ground on a parachute. A groundsensing device perforated a pressure disc to release the bomb’s pressurised liquid contents at about twenty feet above ground and simultaneously fired flares upwards. The upward and downward flight time of the flares allowed the ethylene oxide gas skirt to widen to around twenty-five metres in radius before the first of the flares contacted the gas skirt setting off a vicious explosion. Lethal over-pressure from a mere five gallons of ethylene oxide dispersed and detonated in this way extended way beyond the edge of the gas skirt.

Very often the precise positions of CTs firing from dense bush were not known and we had no single weapon that could produce lethal effect over relatively large areas to cater for such situations. FAE seemed to offer a perfect solution to this ongoing problem.

Considerable time, effort and cost went into Project Echo during which we succeeded in making huge expensive fireballs before, eventually, achieving two terrific detonations. The first of these broke many windowpanes in the Kutanga Range domestic area that was over 500 metres from the blast. What interested us about successful detonations were the sound effects they produced and the fact that they totally stripped vegetation, including substantial trees, up to forty-five metres radius from blast centre. The ground around was pulverised and powdered to a depth of several inches. The sound of each detonation was not a sharp bang, as from TNT, but a loud deepnoted ‘crruuump’ from an explosion, followed immediately by the ‘cruump’ of an implosion.

Ethylene oxide is a very dangerous substance to store and with Rhodesia being under UN sanctions it was also very expensive and difficult to source. Considering these issues, and realising that weapons that descend on parachutes would be difficult to deliver accurately, even in the lightest of wind conditions, we decided to drop the FAE project. Nevertheless, I was still determined to produce high-pressure bombs. Denzil was just as determined and acquired information on the gas-generating properties of every known explosive and combustible liquid compound. His hope was to identify a readily available safe-tohandle explosive that would exhibit similar characteristics to ethylene oxide. When he recommended ANFO we all studied the data before agreeing it exhibited suitable gas-producing properties. This was a pleasing discovery because we could produce ANFO very cheaply and easily.

Project Golf was initiated by making a direct comparison between an imported 500-pound TNT-filled mediumcapacity bomb and an ANFO-filled 6mm steel casing having equal mass. Both units were mounted vertically on three-foot stands pointing nose down for command detonation from a safe distance. The imported bomb was detonated first. It went off with the usual bright flash, black smoke and a very loud bang with plenty of dust drifting away on the wind. The ANFO bomb was nothing like as impressive to the eye or ear. The explosive flash was nowhere near as bright as the TNT bomb and pasty-grey smoke mingled with dust was drifting off before a deep ‘crrrrump’ was followed immediately by a second ‘crrump’.

Inspection of the sites showed clearly that we had a winner in ANFO. Loud bangs, such as thunder from lightning, are the product of huge energy releases to atmosphere. In the case of bombs filled with high flame-rate explosives, bright flashes and loud bangs of surface bursts are products of wasted energy following the disintegration of steel casings. When used against buildings, bunkers and other targets where detonation occurs within confined structures, the same energy is highly destructive, but not so in the unconfined conditions of open bush.

In the case of ANFO, the steel containers swell in size, as do the high-explosive containers; but ANFO, having a much slower flame-rate, continues its heaving detonation well beyond case disintegration. An ANFO mix, when confined in a steel container and given a hefty thump by an initiator charge such as Pentolite, ignites spontaneously to generate enormous amounts of high-pressure gas in a heaving EXplosion which forces air outwards from the generated gas bubble. The gas cools immediately, creating a void into which the air flows at supersonic speed, causing an IMplosion.

Digressing for a moment, the implosion following an atomic bomb blast causes more damage to structure than the initial explosion. In the case of ANFO, explosion and implosion are equally damaging—a double dose of no good.

The production of ANFO, a commonly used mining explosive, simply involves the thorough mixing of a small quantity of diesel fuel into prilled ammonium nitrate fertiliser. In the beginning we did this with a shovel in a wheelbarrow. Later we progressed to a simple motor-driven concrete mixer for large-quantity production.

ANFO offered a special advantage. From the start we realised that it would not be necessary to use special ammunition dumps for the safe storage of ANFO bombs. Unlike standard high-explosive units that had to be filled in specialised conditions, ANFO bombs could be stacked in the open and only filled when they were needed.

Digressing again and returning to the Mao Tse Tung ‘ground cannon’ mentioned in conjunction with the CT ‘air ambush’ system, I decided to test this ‘cannon’ using ANFO as the explosive. A one-metre round hole was dug to a depth of one metre. At the base we placed a 20kg charge of ANFO then filled the hole with rocks.

The project team was over 1,000 metres away when the ‘ground cannon’ went off with a dull thunderclap. Whilst the rocks remained close together, their rapid passage up to around 1,000 feet above ground was obvious. Thereafter we could see nothing of individual rocks that soared on to greater heights. We watched the ground ahead for ages waiting for the rocks to land but neither saw nor heard anything. I was heading for my vehicle when a peculiar sound, which I can only describe as something like static electricity, developed all around. Everyone dived under vehicles in time to avoid the rocks that came crashing down.

Used in multiples around airfields, this crude device would have been devastating to enemy paratroopers and ground-attack fighters. Fortunately however, there was never a need to employ Mao Tse Tung’s crude but effective ‘ground cannon’.

Further static 500-pound ANFO trials were conducted before making a direct comparison between an imported 1000-pound bomb and an ANFO unit of equivalent mass. For this we acquired specially bred white guinea-pigs with black ears. They were placed in wire-mesh cages, set in deep holes (to protect them from shrapnel) next to which pressure pots and pressure discs were laid in a line at five-metre intervals from fifteen metres outwards to fifty metres from point of detonation.

The imported bomb explosion had no noticeable effect on the pressure pots and pressure discs beyond fifteen metres. In the fifteen minutes it took us to get to the test site, every guinea-pig, including the two at fifteen and twenty metres, had recovered from the big bang and were munching away at the feed in their cages.

Following detonation of the ANFO unit, we rushed back to the little creatures with a forensic pathologist in tow. I had persuaded this medical specialist to assist us in our ANFO tests by examining the bodies of snakes and frogs we found on the surface following every single ANFO detonation. All these cold-blooded creatures, though dead, appeared perfectly normal until dissected. Over-pressure had destroyed their lungs and other vital organs without any damage to outer skin. The frogs, which lived more than one foot below surface, were always found on top of the powdered earth, lying belly up.

At the 1000-pound ANFO detonation site we found every guinea-pig hunched up, motionless and covered in thick fine dust. Those at fifteen, twenty and twenty-five metres from blast had perished through overpressure. Those at thirty and thirty-five meters had perforated eardrums; the remainder recovered quickly enough but would not eat for more than ten hours. The pressure pots within twenty-five meters suffered distortion with permanent set and satisfactory over-pressure readings extended out to thirty-five metres.

The guinea-pigs that survived the ANFO blast were kept in a large pen separate from those that had been subjected to the imported bomb blast and Kutanga Mac looked after these little fellows better than any private home could. For reasons we never established, the guinea-pigs in the ANFO pen grew larger than the others and became enormously fat. The two deaf animals were the happiest, fattest and hungriest. All were eventually found good homes.

Our first ANFO bombs weighed 450kg, which was equivalent to the imported 1000-pound bombs. Canberras and Hunters released these in a series of tests. Although the tests themselves were successful, we were not at all happy with the loss of energy evidenced by large craters in the ground where they detonated.

Operational considerations clearly identified Hunters as the main user of high-pressure bombs, so we turned all attention to fighter/bomber style steep-dive (sixty-degree) profile attacks. To maximise blast effect each bomb was fitted with a one-metre-long proboscis to ensure airburst. To minimise energy losses downward and upward, and to maximise ground overpressure, simultaneous initiation of Pentolite booster charges at the front and rear of the ANFO charge resulted in a very satisfactory ‘squeeze’ effect. In doing this, each bomb flattened everything around the point of contact and no energy was lost to punching out ground craters. The entire tailpiece was usually found at the centre of detonation proving that almost no energy was going skyward.

During early tests each pair of bombs landed close together; so we decided to improve the ninety-metre diameter bush-clearing effect by retarding one bomb to force it to fall short of the unretarded one. Spring-loaded metal paddles were used initially but these were clumsy and inefficient. They were discarded as soon as we learned how to absorb the high shock loading involved in deploying our own designed and manufactured drogue chutes. The drogue chutes worked well and forced the retarded bomb to fall about thirty-five metres short of the streamlined unit. From then on a pair of ANFO bombs gave a bush flattening-pattern ninety metres wide by 135 metres in the line of attack.

450kg Golf bombs were cleared for operational use in March 1977. Testing continued for some time thereafter, resulting in the ANFO bombs being upgraded with double steel cylinders sandwiching thousands of pieces of chopped 10mm steel rod to give lethal shrapnel effect beyond the over-pressure boundaries. Although officially termed 450kg HP bombs, the project title stuck and everyone knew them as ‘Golf bombs’.

Cavalry Fireforce

IN MARCH 1977, OZZIE PENTON asked for my temporary release from project work to conduct recce training camps for all PRAW crews. To make this manageable and to minimise disruption to my own work, I arranged for four separate five-day camps to be run in March, April, May and June. I chose Marandellas Airfield for the first recce camp and had Cocky Benecke, Francois du Toit and Norman Maasdorp along to assist me. Francois had resigned from the South African Air Force to join our force and was keen to get back to air recce work.

John Blythe-Wood, as lead K-Car pilot operating out of Mtoko, had been having a run of first-class successes in which he had twice called for Canberra Alpha bomb strikes. My wish was to find a target for John’s Fireforce in the hope that he might use Canberras again because I had not personally witnessed an Alpha bomb strike from the air.

On 22 March I found a plum target and counted thirty-eight CTs moving out of a their well-defined base camp. Unfortunately the Mtoko Fireforce was not available, so the Grand Reef Fireforce, led by Mike Litson, responded instead. An agonising fifty-five minutes elapsed before the Fireforce came into view. I put Mike onto the campsite first for orientation purposes and, considering the long delay, it was fortunate that my guess at where the CTs might be found turned out to be correct. In the action that followed, sixteen CTs were killed, one was captured unhurt and seventeen escaped, most having been peppered with 20mm shrapnel from the K-Car.

Although I read all the Air Strike Reports in Air HQ it was not the same as seeing for myself the existing problems of having too few Fireforces. They had to cover many thousands of square miles in which ever-growing numbers of CT groups were operating. I wondered if employing a new approach might offset the shortage of Fireforces and allow air recce finds to be less dependent on their availability.

Lieutenant-Colonel Tony Stevens, commander of the horse-borne troops of the Grey’s Scouts, listened to my ideas of using his Grey’s Scouts as an alternative to the heli–borne Fireforce. He leapt at the opportunity and we made plans to give it a try the next day in the St Swithins Tribal Trust Land. This was to have a force of twenty horsemen moving along a predetermined line at a gentle walk whilst I conducted air recce five kilometres on either side of their line.

I found the force immediately I arrived at the appointed RV and the sharp accent of the Grey’s Scouts major made me realise he was Australian. He confirmed the line he would ride and I confirmed the procedure I would adopt. Not ten minutes passed before I found a base under trees on high ground, commanding an excellent view of surrounding grasslands in which were some bare maize fields, very few trees and three small villages.

My 1:50,000-scale map showed a shallow depression running west to east 500 metres to the north of the base but this was not obvious from my recce height. I had no knowledge of horse-borne tactics for approaching targets unseen. Having given him the relevant grid references, I asked the major’s opinion on the cover the depression would afford him. He assured me he could get to a position 500 metres north of the base without being seen and said he would call me across two minutes before his arrival there. At the time I was about five kilometres away, having maintained a routine orbit line, but I could see the horses clearly even when they passed through tree cover. The speed at which the horses covered the ground was very impressive.

When the force turned right to move directly towards the base, ten pairs of horsemen surged forward, galloping at different speeds to place them in a wide crescent before the centre horsemen came to a halt and dismounted. In no time there were ten pairs of men surrounding the base site. The nearest troops to the base were about 150 metres away. No more than ten minutes had passed from finding the base to having it surrounded by men who had dismounted to commence a cautious approach towards the base.

Disappointingly, the base was empty, having been vacated about two hours earlier. Nevertheless it was clear to me that this silent force would have achieved complete surprise and total encirclement. Had there been serious opposition, a status quo could have been maintained for as long as it took for a regular Fireforce to reach them.

Unfortunately, the success of the trial ended abruptly. I had continued searching for another target when I saw smoke rising from two villages close to the base. I could not raise the major on radio so flew back to see what was going on and was horrified to find all huts of the third village in the process of being torched. My presence overhead brought the major back to his radio set and we entered into a very heated exchange. The major maintained that the locals needed to be punished for feeding the CTs. I objected and insisted that these same locals, who really had no alternative but to feed CTs, would more willingly support ZANLA following this senseless action.

I terminated the trial even before a whole hour had passed because I needed to discuss Grey’s Scouts’ procedures and attitudes with Tony Stevens. He was very apologetic about his Australian major’s actions and assured me that appropriate action would be taken. Nevertheless, Tony was delighted to learn that, in my opinion, Grey’s Scouts could be employed in a Fireforce role in support of air recce and Selous Scouts. Regrettably I never found another opportunity to pursue the matter personally and the concept was lost.

Testing American equipment

BOB CLEAVES RETURNED FROM USA with the equipment I had requested for field trials. The gyro-stabilised binoculars were mind boggling on the ground. Superb magnification and a rock-steady image, no matter how much one trembled, made them a perfect aid for game-viewing. In the air, however, the binoculars were only useful to inspect selected points during a gentle orbit. The moment one tried to keep an eye on a point whilst in forward flight, even at 4,000 feet above ground, the rate of scan induced precession of the gyro beyond its limits and toppled the spinning mirror.

This was a great pity because from 4,000 feet one could clearly distinguish between an FN rifle and an AK-47. The only airman who showed any interest in the unit was Sergeant Pete McCabe who was also the only man I knew who used standard binoculars in flight. How Pete managed to see anything through binoculars when flying in helicopters that vibrated so much I do not know; but he was as successful with them as he was firing his machine-gun or cannon.

Having been designed for security surveillance, the night-vision unit worked wonderfully on the ground. In flight, there were too many problems in trying to match what one could see through the bright night-vision unit with one’s dimly lit map. Only regular pathways through open ground could be seen but all hills and bush lacked any perception in depth.

The US bulletproof vests were better than the few we had previously acquired from some other source although one of these had saved Vic Cook’s technician. The American vests were subjected to destructive testing from our own FN rifles and a variety of communist rifles and machine-guns firing 7.62 mm ammunition. Though the vests gave no protection against armour-piercing rounds they were considered both suitable and essential for Fireforce aircrew and airborne Army commanders. Thanks to Bob and his US contacts, our order for these life-saving items was met and became standard operational wear for aircrew and airborne Army commanders. Many men owed their lives to these vests.

I was keen to develop better ceramic platelets to produce our own protective vests and to use as protective cladding on helicopter engines. Doctor Patrick Grubb of the University of Rhodesia took up my challenge and succeeded in producing ceramic platelets that gave full protection against armour-piecing rounds fired from 100 metres. He was still negotiating with a manufacturer to produce them on a large scale when our war came to an end. For his efforts Pat Grubb was given clearance to use the technology for his own benefit but, so far as I know, this was another successful Rhodesian development that faded to nothing.

COMPOS established

FROM THE MID 1960S UNTIL MARCH 1977, overall control of operations vested with the Operations Co-ordinating Committee whose secretarial arm was the Joint Planning Staff. The OCC still comprised the Commanders of Army and Air Force, the Commissioner of Police, and the Director of Central Intelligence Organisation. The Chairman of JPS acted as secretary and he was responsible for the execution of all joint service decisions and directives emanating from OCC, whereas individual heads handled single service matters. Because service in the top posts of the Army and Air Force was limited to four years and the Police to five years, only Ken Flower of CIO served continuously on the OCC.

Under OCC were the Provincial Joint Operations Centres, JOC Hurricane (Bindura), JOC Thrasher (Umtali), JOC Repulse (Fort Victoria), JOC Tangent (Bulawayo) JOC Grapple (Gwelo) and JOC Splinter (Binga). At each JOC the Provincial Head of Internal Affairs was a permanent member. Other government departments, such as road and telecommunications, could be co-opted on an ad hoc basis. Below each JOC there were two or more Sub-JOCs. For instance, under command of JOC Hurricane were Sub-JOCs Sipolilo, Centenary, Mount Darwin and Mtoko.

At no level was there a recognised supremo. Chairing of JOC meetings was done in rotation between the Army, Air force and Police. This style of command and control expected “Reasonable men to act responsibly in co-operation with one another”. So long as we were experiencing total successes against ZIPRA and ZANLA in the years prior to 1974, the system worked remarkably well. However, by late 1976 it had become clear to everyone that ZANLA was gaining ascendancy and that Rhodesia’s resources were being stretched to the limits. It was also clear that, whereas ZANLA was working to a specific strategy, JOCs and sub JOCs were doing their own thing in the absence of clearly defined political and military strategies upon which to formulate plans and tactics.

Considerable enterprise was shown at every level in all services; but these unco-ordinated initiatives were not all good for the country. In the absence of a supreme commander with a staff of top line planners to give executive direction, it was not surprising that strong initiatives by men and units, all driven by frustration and the will to win, too often achieved negative results.

From my viewpoint, the most obvious of these was the negative mindset of many Army and Police officers towards the Selous Scouts, even though the Scouts were directly responsible for the majority of our internal counter-insurgency successes. Much of this arose from a lack of understanding of pseudo operations, and more so because Selous Scouts had to fight red tape and prejudice for everything they needed in terms of men and equipment. Ron Reid-Daly’s fiery character and deep-seated secretive manner did little to help this situation.

It appeared to me that only the RLI, Air Force and Special Branch gave the Selous Scouts support and credit for the incredible work they were doing. Like others, I was often niggled by Selous Scouts ‘freezing’ areas in which pseudo teams were working when I myself had planned to operate over those same areas. But the reason for disallowing any security forces into the ‘frozen areas’ was so obviously intended to avoid misidentification and unnecessary casualties that one learned to live with the situation. Besides, I repeat, most of our successes were coming from the ‘frozen areas’.

I believe the real reason for the Air Force’s positive attitude was that, almost from the start, helicopter crews deployed and recovered pseudo operators to and from their screened-of ‘forts’, so they got to know the Scouts operators personally and were involved in most of their pseudo successes. Apart from this, the Air Force was totally unaffected by Selous Scouts manpower and equipment needs.

A major problem in not having a national military strategy was the periodic misuse of the SAS due to differences in opinions on how the specialist unit should be employed. When made available to JOC Hurricane, the SAS were correctly used to disrupt ZANLA’s external communication routes. When detached to JOC Repulse, they were often used incorrectly on internal Fireforce tasks.

Another weakness in not having an executive command was that a general lack of co-ordination and co-operation went counter to ensuring the optimum utilisation of resources. Provincial JOCs hung jealously to whatever was theirs, often showing a marked reluctance to assist in matters outside of their boundaries—even though ZANLA’s operational zones overlapped our provincial boundaries.

The consequence of all this, and ZANLA’s ever-increasing numbers, was that an air of depression set in and many Rhodesians were emigrating in what was unkindly referred to as ‘the chicken run’. Almost every able-bodied white male was involved in military call-up and everyone could see that the political assurance that Rhodesia would win through was no more than a smoke screen. The Rhodesian press and radio boasted high successes against ZANLA, but studiously avoided telling the civilian population that, for every ZANLA killed or captured two or more replacements flowed in. There was clearly a need to turn things around and indications that such action was about to be taken came when Ian Smith was seen moving around the op areas more than usual.

The move came in March 1977 when a major change in command structure was implemented in an attempt to emulate the direction Britain had taken in handling a similar situation in Malaya during the early 1950s. The British Government appointed General Gerald Templar as Supreme Commander over every arm of government with instructions to reverse ever-mounting Chinese communist successes in their bid to take control of Malaya. As Malaya’s Supremo General Templar’s successes had been spectacular so now, almost too late in the day, Rhodesia aimed to follow suit.

Lieutenant-General Peter Walls was appointed Rhodesia’s Supremo and his new HQ, known as Combined Operations Headquarters (COMOPS), was established in Milton Buildings next to the Prime Minister’s offices. This same building housed Air Force HQ and the Treasury.

Throughout the military, there was a general air of expectancy and hope because most officers were familiar with the Malayan success story. Rhodesia’s ‘C’ Squadron SAS had been formed to serve in Malaya and was used as an extension of ‘A’ and ‘B’ Squadrons of the British Special Air Service. In that war, the Rhodesian unit had borne the title ‘C’ Squadron Malayan Scouts and had been commanded by General Peter Walls, then a major.

When General Templar took control of Malayan affairs, he first planned his strategy to counter communist forces that had been giving the authorities a severe mauling. From the start he knew that arms alone could not win the war. He realised that success depended on every governmental and private organisation acting in perfect unison with well-honed, balanced and unified military forces all acting in harmony to gain the confidence and total support of the Malayan people. Neither petty jealousies between or within any structures nor any weakness in leadership could be tolerated. The enemy had to be denied access to the civil population along with the destruction of his hitherto safe-havens deep inside the jungles. But above all, the ‘hearts and minds of the Malayan people’ was recognised as the key to defeating the communists.

To achieve his political and military aims General Templar needed, and was given, enormous power to act unilaterally. He started by firing the Commissioner of Police and followed through by dismissing many high, and middle-ranking civil and military officers. Ignoring career planning for individuals, he promoted go-getters and soon gained the willing co-operation of the armed forces and the civil authorities. Everyone knew General Templar’s overall plan and how they, individually, fitted into it. The rest is history.

General Templar’s plans worked because he had the power to remould all organisations and dovetail their efforts to support and implement his clearly defined strategy. He did not involve himself in tactics or the nitty-gritty, day-to-day activities, but watched the overall situation closely to ensure that timely corrective actions were taken where and when necessary.

COMOPS had been established for the right reasons, but General Walls was not afforded the powers General Templar had enjoyed. Without these I believe he was stymied. Within a couple of weeks of its formation, it became clear that COMOPS was not going to bring about what we were expecting. Our hopes of receiving clearly defined military direction were dashed because General Templar’s single most important need to ‘win the hearts and minds of the (African) people’ found no place as the firm foundation upon which to build a total strategy. This vital issue was simply ignored. Furthermore there was no effort made to eliminate weakness in leadership at any level.

The real strength of the Rhodesian Army at the time lay in its battle-experienced colonels, lieutenant-colonels and majors, but they stayed in their positions whilst officers of questionable character and performance remained in harness. The same applied to the Police and many government ministries. I believe that, being the smallest of the three armed forces, Air Force leadership was sound at all levels.

In effect COMOPS had merely replaced OCC, but with more people attending lengthier meetings of what became known as the National JOC (NATJOC). The selection of COMOPS staff officers was left to individual HQs and this resulted in General Walls failing to receive the powerful planning staff he needed.

The Air Force approached the formation of COMOPS seriously by posting in Group Captain Norman Walsh, a battle-experienced pilot with outstanding qualities in leadership and bags of common sense.

The same could not be said of Army HQ’s approach to COMOPS needs. Army’s initial allocation of officers was astounding considering it possessed many top-line leaders so essential to Rhodesia’s all-important strategy-formulating body. Instead, it sent officers who were unsuited to appointments demanding clear thinking with proven records of operational proficiency and excellence in both personality and leadership. COMOPS should never have given space to any prima donna.

All too soon it became clear that the new command was not going to serve its intended purpose but would make Rhodesia’s already difficult situation even worse. Instead of formulating strategy, COMOPS involved itself in the day-to-day running of operations, occasionally even instructing JOCs where to move small units. Proven Principles of War were ignored. In fact the only useful function I remember COMOPS performing at that time was ordering reluctant JOCs to pass over their Fireforces to adjacent JOCs when such a need arose.

Why General Walls allowed his pompous Director General of Operations, Brigadier Bert Barnard, to bypass Army HQ and issue directives directly to formations under Army command I cannot say. A well-balanced and unassuming officer would have passed these to Army HQ to action, thereby avoiding the unnecessary antagonism that developed very rapidly between the Army and COMOPS. So far as I was concerned, Army HQ was partly to blame for having sent the wrong man to COMOPS but General Walls more so for accepting him.

Sadly COMOPS assumed outright operational control of the SAS and Selous Scouts, leaving Army HQ to attend to their administrative needs only. In consequence, a deep rift developed between Lieutenant-General Walls and Major-General John Hickman with devastating consequences to most aspects of Army’s operational efficiency. It resulted in pathetic ‘them and us’ attitudes at a time we so desperately needed absolute unity.

The Police and Air Force were not affected in this way, but the all-important strategic plan we awaited was not forthcoming. I met Norman Walsh on a number of occasions and learned of his deep frustrations in this regard because the Army component of COMOPS, being greater than Air Force and Police combined, seemed unable to see the wood for the trees, and would not listen to reasoned argument. Even the Officer Commanding SAS, Major Brian Robinson, and OC Selous Scouts, Lieutenant-Colonel Ron Reid-Daly, told me, unreservedly, that the only senior officer in COMOPS with both feet on the ground and possessing any idea of what needed to be done was the ‘blue job’, Group Captain Walsh

In his attempt to coerce COMOPS into action Norman recommended the employment of the SAS, Selous Scouts, elements of the RLI and Air Force in the systematic destruction of all the external routes, specifically bridges, serving ZANLA and ZIPRA communication needs. This he considered essential to slow down the unimpeded flow of men and materials into Rhodesia. The secondary effect of such action would most likely force the governments of Mozambique and Zambia to cease hosting our enemies.

The need to destroy the communications infrastructures of both Mozambique and Zambia was old hat, having been recognised as an urgent matter ever since the collapse of the Portuguese. However, the Rhodesian ‘political ruling’ (in reality a South African imposition possibly exaggerated by CIO) against the destruction of any economic targets had always discounted such actions until, following total failure of the détente-inspired ceasefire back in August 1976, the Selous Scouts and SAS were eventually cleared to immobilise rail and road routes in Gaza Province.

Norman Walsh knew only too well that to raise the issue of destroying bridges on such a large scale would create a political storm but, from a military standpoint, the issues had to be pressed. In fact, Norman was not so sure that the ‘politically sensitive issues’ blocking the military originated from politicians; he guessed they were more likely imposed on NATJOC by Ken Flower of CIO. However, before presenting his plans for consideration by the NATJOC Norman, working with the OC SAS, needed to select all key targets to formulate a detailed campaign to be conducted in two phases; first the destruction of Mozambican and Zambian infrastructure and secondly all CT concentrations in those two countries.

The destruction of Mozambique’s communications infrastructure would involve ten days of intensive flying to deploy and recover specialist demolition teams and their protection elements. For this, all helicopters and Dakotas would have to be withdrawn from internal operations. The month of July offered the best weather conditions for this tightly programmed campaign. At the end of the Mozambique phase, all helicopters would have to undergo major servicing over a period of three days before launching a six-day campaign against Zambia. This meant just nineteen days of intensive effort—start to finish.

As he anticipated, the Phase One plan failed to get past COMOPS. Had Brigadier Barnard been included in the planning, and presented it as ‘his own idea’, it might have made a difference. (This is my own biased opinion based on personal experience.) Nevertheless Norman’s plans were shelved and were only resurrected in 1979 when it was too late to materially influence Rhodesian fortunes.

Apart from a reluctance to wage war on neighbours, which would surely increase tensions between the West and South Africa, it was feared that Zambia, seeing what was happening in Mozambique, might call for the physical support by surrogate forces (most likely Cubans) in anticipation of action against herself. Once invited, such forces would almost certainly remain in Zambia!

The second phase of Norman’s operational plan, also external, was to become Rhodesia’s first priority if the destruction of communications was denied. This was to attack ZANLA and ZIPRA concentrations in their external bases. Undeterred by the rejection of his primary plan, Norman turned attention to our enemies’ major external havens. In the meanwhile, the SAS and Selous Scouts continued attacking small bases close to Rhodesia.

Internally operations continued apace though a certain amount of continuation training in the field remained essential. On 4 May 1977, Air Lieutenant Bob Griffiths was tasked to carry out GAC training for local army units at the Clydesdale Battle Camp near Umtali. Along for a joyride, was Lance-Corporal Compton Brown. On completion of the training run, Rob was returning to Grand Reef at low level. Due to inexperience, he flew up the centre of a rising valley, failing to observe the golden rule of hugging the valley’s edge to give him the widest possible turn-back option, if needed. Too late he realised that he was not going to make the crest and tried to turn back. With too little space to complete a safe turnabout, he flew into rising ground. His survival in the ensuing fiery crash was a miracle and he was lucky not to have been braindamaged, but his face was permanently fire-scarred. His young passenger died instantly.

Two weeks later, on 18 May, there was death in the air of a very different kind. Roger Watt was flying a G-Car with his tech, Rob Nelson. With them they had four game-ranger trackers who were required to assist an RAR callsign that had been in contact with a group of ZIPRA CTs near Gokwe. Roger dropped only two of the trackers with RAR because one had seen something whilst they were coming in to land. He got airborne again with the two trackers and was climbing out when all hell broke loose beneath him as he reached 1,200 feet. Smoke filled the cabin and with it there were flames. Roger immediately cut fuel-flow and commenced an autorotative forced landing but flames, coming from petrol spilling out of the aircraft’s damaged portable-refueller, intensified and burned through the cabin rear wall by the left rear cargo bay, then swirled around throughout the entire cabin. (Portable petrol-driven refuellers had replaced the pressure refuelling units many months earlier.)

Somehow the two rangers got out onto the starboard step and were clinging on outside the cabin where they were protected from the flames by the pilot’s door. Throughout the descent raw flames continuously licked Roger but he managed to pull off a well-judged slow landing. The rangers were fine and Roger was quite badly burnt but his unfortunate tech, Rob Nelson who had been engulfed in flames, died after leaping from the aircraft whilst it was still 300 feet up.

External operations March-June 1977

SAS ‘COCKLESHELL HEROES’ CONFUSED FRELIMO and ZANLA completely, and had forced them to abandon large areas of Tete. ZANLA was still based way back in Tete town, but had diverted routes eastwards and made an error in routing forces through a disused Tanzanian Army base close to FRELIMO’s Chioco town.

The Chioco base was destroyed and most of its ZANLA inhabitants were killed in an SAS assault during March. But then FRELIMO made the mistake of accepting ZANLA into Chioco town itself and that once-pretty little Portuguese administrative village was totally destroyed two months later. Air Force involvement in both of these SAS operations was limited to deployments and recoveries, although a Lynx carrying Brian Robinson had been used to cover a casevac and a pair of Hunters was used for one strike.

It was during this period that Brian Robinson’s love of flying was sorely tested. On the night of 15 March 1977, Air SubLieutenant John Kidson was tasked to fly OC SAS on a sortie over Mozambique so that Brian could communicate directly with his SAS callsigns engaged in these external operations. The inexperienced young pilot got airborne from FAF 5 but failed to climb at a steeper inclination than the ground that rose from the runway’s end towards Mtoko village. Fortunately the softer parts of many treetops dragged the aircraft speed down to a relatively safe speed for the eventual crunch with terra firma. The aircraft caught fire and was completely destroyed but Brian Robinson and John Kidson escaped unhurt. In spite of this experience, Brian’s passion for flying never diminished.

In the Repulse area Fireforce was involved in an action in which the suspected presence of FRELIMO forces was confirmed when twenty ZANLA and FRELIMO died in an action inside Rhodesia. This prompted Selous Scouts to launch Operation Aztec, another ‘flying column’ foray into Gaza Province. On 29 May 1977, Scouts attacked ZANLA and FRELIMO at Jorge do Limpopo and Mapai. Although FRELIMO were getting stronger, they still had no answers to Scouts’ techniques, firepower and aggression. Mapai Airfield was secured and declared serviceable before the town itself was taken on.

Most of the vehicles and many of the heavy guns in the Selous Scouts column had been captured during earlier operations in Gaza Province. Rather than destroy good equipment to prevent its use by the enemy, the Scouts preferred to recover whatever they could to bolster their increasing needs. During this operation they captured a number of vehicles and huge quantities of arms and ammunition. So they called for a Dakota on 30 May to fly in a team of Scouts mechanics to make necessary repairs so that their acquired vehicles could carry home all the captured equipment. Later in the day, the Dakota returned with demolition teams to assist in the destruction of structures in Mapai.

By late afternoon the demolition teams were running low on explosives and the defending troops needed more mortar bombs to hold off troublesome ZANLA and FRELIMO forces that were firing at them from beyond the town’s outskirts. The Dakota landed for the third time that day, but this was shortly before sunset. Instead of offloading and taking off immediately, the aircraft was held up when the skipper agreed to a Scouts request to wait a while to load more captured equipment. In this case aircrew willingness to assist the Army turned out to be a very bad mistake because two hours elapsed between landing and the Dakota commencing its take-off run.

Enemy forces using the cover of darkness had been given plenty of time to establish themselves close to the centre of the runway. The hail of bullets and RPG rockets that followed the Dakota, just as it lifted off, gave it no hope of survival. Flight Lieutenant Bruce Collocott in the co-pilot’s seat died instantly, the starboard engine was knocked out and leaking fuel ignited.

Skipper Jerry Lynch had no option but to close down the port engine and land straight ahead. He did an amazing job to bring the crippled aircraft to a controlled halt, allowing survivors to escape from the aircraft. His attempts to get Bruce out of his seat nearly cost Jerry his life before being forced to abandon the attempt due to the blazing inferno around him. Bruce Collocott, with his ever-ready wit was a great loss to the Air Force. So too was the loss of the very first Dakota ever owned by the Southern Rhodesian Air Force. By instruction of Prime Minister Jan Smuts, South Africa had sold it to Rhodesia in 1947 at a ridiculously low price.

Flechettes

THE FRENCH PRODUCED AN ANTI-PERSONNEL warhead for 68mm Sneb rockets that incorporated thousands of tiny darts known as ‘flechettes’. When the rockets were fired they flew for just under one second before explosive charges burst warhead casings to release the flechettes into very high-speed free flight. A salvo of flechette-carrying Snebs resulted in a dense cloud of lethal darts covering a large area of ground.

For reasons I never understood, flechette rockets were forbidden by international law because the darts, upon impact with a human body, had the habit of tumbling and making nasty exit wounds. Yet ordinary rifle bullets, which caused more damage and were just as lethal, were considered acceptable. This has never made sense to me.

From as early as 1964 I had been interested in the possibility of using clusters of free-flying darts as a lethal weapon system. This had nothing to do with very lightweight rocket-borne flechettes that relied on very high velocity to make them lethal. I was thinking of large quantities of heavy darts flying in dense formation to produce an instant effect on the ground that could only be achieved by hundreds of machine-guns firing simultaneously.

At the time I was preparing Kutanga Range for the weapons demonstration in 1964, I loaded two teargas carriers with as many six-inch nails as they would accommodate. Flying a Provost, I delivered these from low level at 240 knots. The test was unofficial and was only known to the Kutanga Range staff. The standard flat head of the nails did not give all the nails stability, but those that struck nose-first embedded quite deeply into the trunks of hardwood trees. The test was sufficient to show that the use of six-inch nail shafts incorporating flight stabilisers would be lethal if delivered fast enough. In 1976 I was in a position to extend my explorations officially.

I arranged for an unserviceable Vampire long-range fuel tank to be modified to incorporate a downward opening trapdoor that was activated by the bomb-release button on the control column. Station Workshop at Thornhill produced 2,000 darts from six-inch nails whose flat heads had been removed and substituted by three small in-line fins.

A single-drop trial at 350 knots proved the accuracy, density and lethality of the darts. So, as soon as the Golf bomb project allowed, I turned attention to the matter and a file marked Project Hotel was opened. The project’s aim was to produce many thousands of ‘six-inch flechettes’ for carriage by faster-flying Hunters in large releasable under-wing dispensers.

My visit to the Bulawayo factory that manufactured six-inch nails resulted in an emphatic “technically impossible” response when I asked for nails with no heads, but then an equally emphatic “Yes we can produce them”, when I explained their purpose. My next visit was to a plastic-moulding company in Salisbury that produced the moulds for the plastic fin design that I had sketched in the MD’s personal diary. The fins were pressure-moulded from recycled plastic and force-fitted over the blunt ends of the six-inch shafts to turn them into flechettes.

Bev designed and produced a purpose-made flechette dispenser that looked just like a streamlined bomb. It incorporated four radiused panels that, together, formed the main cylindrical body enclosing and bearing the heavy charge of 4,500 flechettes. Each of the four panels was secured at its front end to an explosive nose cone and was hinged at its rear into the forward ring of the flight stabiliser cone.

Upon release from its carrier a loaded dispenser dropped free for half a second before the nose cone’s explosive charge fired. This released the front anchors of the four panels that rotated outwards and rearward in the air-stream to release 4,500 flechettes into free flight. 50% of the load was packed facing backwards to ensure maximum content but this enhanced lateral distribution at the expense of inconsequential retardation.

Tests conducted from Hunters, off a standard front-gun attack proved that the new weapon was accurate and highly effective. Released in pairs at speeds in excess of 450 knots resulted in an immensely dense cloud of 9,000 flechettes flying a shallow trajectory, which made survival of exposed people impossible within in the 900-metre-long by seventy-metre-wide strike area.

To give some idea of a flechette strike from a single Hunter—it would require no less than four hundred and fifty .303 Browning machine-guns firing in unison to match the projectile density in the single second it took for all flechettes, first to last, to reach ground.

The flechette-dispensing system was cheap; it did not involve foreign currency expenditure and, unlike exploding weapons, was totally safe to the delivering aircraft. The system was demonstrated to Air Staff and immediately cleared for operational use, though the question of how our very large stable flechettes might be affected by the international ruling against small flechettes was never resolved. Because there was some doubt, we restricted their employment to strikes inside the country.

Having proved the flechette system for Hunters, I wondered if they could be useful for Canberra night-strikes. Being a silent weapon, I imagined what psychological effects they might have on CT morale if the silent death darts swarmed into ZANLA’s external bases when the CTs were up and about during the night when they felt safest. Using a long delay to cater for the free flight time, we tested one flechette dispenser dropped by a Canberra flying 20,000 feet above target. We needed to know the distribution pattern created by such a drop and a water target was best suited for the purpose.

We chose Sebakwe Dam where a bright orange floating target was anchored 200 metres from the shoreline on which my party of observers and photographers was positioned. Ted Brent and his bomb-aimer, Doug Pasea, released the unit and confirmed, “bomb falling”. On the ground we focused on the floating target and were aware of the Canberra passing over our position, but nothing happened out on the water for another few seconds. We had just started to comment on the possibility of aiming error when a sound like leaking, high-pressure air surrounded us just before 4,500 darts ruffled the water surface right up to our position. Had we placed the target any closer our ground party would undoubtedly have suffered casualties. The potential for flechette strikes at night was proven to be a possibility but we never used it offensively, because of the international ruling.

‘Know your enemy’

SOME TIME AROUND MID-1977 I learned that a Mr Tony Dalton of the ‘Shepherd Group’ was looking for me. I had no clue who Dalton was or what his business was about. When Tony found me at Mtoko he introduced himself and asked if I was willing to let him pick my brain on a subject that concerned him deeply.

He told me that the Shepherd Group, including himself, comprised of three top-level commercial salesmen. Ian Shepherd had set up the small team to consider what should be done to rectify a transparent failing in Rhodesia’s handling of tribesmen who were being subjected to intense ZANLA propaganda with no obvious Rhodesian counter-action. I was immediately interested because this was a ‘hearts and minds’ issue that I thought should have been COMOPS’ highest priority.

Tony outlined the Shepherd Group’s thinking and asked for my comments. I cannot recall details, but remember offering a number of opinions that Tony considered important. I found him to be a thoroughly likeable man who understood the fundamental differences between ZANLA and RSF handling of the local people far better than the politicians, Internal Affairs or the military. In a nutshell, ZANLA expended 95% of its efforts on politicising the people and 5% against the Rhodesian establishment. The RSF, on the other hand, was forced to expend 95% of its effort in response to ZANLA activity with a mere 5% given to badly misdirected psychological action.

Whereas the Shepherd Group eventually broke up because of the lack of interest shown by the authorities, Tony felt so strongly about the need to lead and direct psychological operations that he gave up his successful civilian job to join the regular Army. For his efforts he received little more than lip service from COMOPS who, I say again, should have been leading the action in the first place.

One issue that really troubled Tony Dalton and me was how little we knew about our enemies. Though CIO and SB knew much, Rhodesian secrecy phobias blocked important information from flowing through to the fighting men. So, with Ron Reid-Daly’s active support and participation, Tony arranged a presentation entitled ‘Know your enemy’. Surprisingly few high-ranking officers took the trouble to attend this presentation, which was held in the RLI hall.

Those of us who were there were treated to an eye-opening intelligence briefing on ZANLA and ZIPRA command and field structures and were exposed to first-hand experiences given by two ex-CTs serving with Selous Scouts. One was a recently captured ZANLA detachment commander who told us simple things we should have known, but didn’t. The other was from ZIPRA. As with so many other issues that begged attention, Tony’s theories and plans were initially ignored then rushed into ineffective action when it was too late to gain any worthwhile benefits.

Salisbury recce

IN AUGUST 1977, ZANLA LAUNCHED an ineffective long-range mortar attack against New Sarum Air Base. It was so badly conducted that the nearest bomb fell more than 500 metres short of the base. Nevertheless, this was the closest action to Salisbury city and confirmed suspicions that CTs had moved into the Chimanda Tribal Trust Land on the northern side of the capital. The question arose as to whether or not CTs were based in the Seki Reserve south of New Sarum or at any location within or around Salisbury itself.

I was asked to have a look around and was surprised to find many locations that looked similar to CT bases. There were also many other places that attracted my attention and all were plotted and passed to the SB and Salisbury Police who systematically checked them out. Instead of finding terrorists, the Police made numerous arrests because I had put them onto places where illegal activities were taking place. These included stolen vehicle strip-down joints, temporary hiding-places for stolen goods and illicit liquor-producing stills.

First employment of flechettes

ON 26 OCTOBER 1977, JOHN BLYTHE-WOOD, who had been posted to Hunters, together with ‘Spook’ Geraty responded to an Army callsign who reported a large female feeding-party attending CTs in a section of riverine bush between two hill features. The target description fitted the grid-reference given and first strikes went in. But then the ground callsign told the pilots they had struck the wrong point. By the time John realised that the ground callsign had misread his map and switched his attack across to the correct target, a parallel river between two hills 700 metres away, the birds had flown.

Two days later, a Selous Scouts’ observation team on a high feature spotted this group again. The Scouts radioed that they could see 150 CTs moving northwest along the Pesu River, ten kilometres from the South African border. The Repulse Fireforce manned by the SAS responded. The K-Car, piloted by Ken Newman with OC SAS, Brian Robinson as airborne commander, called for Hunter airstrike. John Blythe-Wood and his wingman Air Lieutenant Lowrie were scrambled with Lowrie’s aircraft carrying a pair of flechette dispensers.

Ken Newman’s ASR is given in his rather unusual style. It reads:

This was the first use of flechettes; so OC SAS was present for yet another Air Force ‘first’.

Preparing to attack external bases

BEFORE HIS POSTING TO COMOPS, Group Captain Norman Walsh had been Director Operations in Air Staff. Never one to sit and wait for action, Norman left his office as often as possible to seek out all available intelligence. During late November 1976 through to February 77 he and Peter McLurg always seemed to be in an awful hurry as they rushed between Air HQ, JSPIS at New Sarum and SAS HQ at Kabrit. During this time, Norman came to me regularly to keep abreast of weapons developments in which he was profoundly interested.

On one of these visits in January 1977, he and Peter laid a large-scale photograph across my desk. It was of ZANLA’s main base and headquarters in Mozambique. Peter explained the layout of Chimoio Base and gave me a run-down on all available intelligence relating to it. Well over 6,000 ZANLA were known to be in residence with more trained personnel arriving daily from Tanzania and other countries. Norman warned that this was top-secret information and that my involvement was purely to assist him select the best weapons for a possible attack on the base. At that time Alpha bomb stocks were mounting but Golf bombs were not yet in production.

When he was posted to COMOPS two months later, Norman asked me to visit him regularly to keep him informed about weapons availability and run him through current project work. By that time Golf bombs were available and had already been integrated into his airstrike plans. Norman knew about the flechette dispenser system and the startling effects that could be expected from this weapon, so I suggested he consider them for use against large concentrations of exposed enemy forces, such as mass parades seen on some aerial photographs.

By June 1977, intelligence had established that there were 8,000 ZANLA in Chimoio Base and photographic evidence confirmed that the base was growing rapidly. Many miles to the north of Chimoio, inside the Tete Province, a second ZANLA base for about 4,000 CTs was also being monitored. Norman and his SAS colleagues linked this base, Tembue, with their attack plans for Chimoio. Realising that the threat from such large concentrations of trained CTs was overwhelming; they sought COMOPS authority to execute their plan.

General Walls and his COMOPS staff attended a number of presentations at SAS HQ. These were made around large-scale models of the two targets. The operational proposals frightened those who listened because they were madly daring and very dangerous. Both proposals involved relatively straightforward air attacks that were to be followed with vertical envelopment by paratroopers and heli-borne forces. This was considered absolutely essential to ensure maximum results and to seriously disrupt ZANLA.

From the outset COMOPS totally rejected any idea of attacking Tembue due to its great distance from Rhodesia; but there was a softening towards the strike plan for Chimoio. Eventually, after many persuasive presentations and much lost time, the operational plans for both Chimoio and Tembue were approved. By then it was late October 1977 when Chimoio’s numbers had risen to 11,000. Tembue was still reported to contain 4,000.

The task that Norman and his planning colleague Major Brian Robinson had on their hands was a daunting one. It was one thing to make operational proposals, but quite another to reduce them to the finest details that were so necessary to ensure effective execution.

The onset of the rainy season in November made it imperative that the attacks went in before large numbers of CTs launched into Rhodesia to take advantage of good bush cover with abundant food supplies. Had the attack been approved earlier any threat of bad weather affecting plans would not have been a factor, but now it was a critical issue and accurate weather forecasting was essential.

For some time a fundi in Salisbury had been providing the Air Force with weather information that he alone could receive indirectly from space satellites, using his own homemade equipment. Due to international sanctions Rhodesia was unable, officially that is, to receive satellite imagery of the weather patterns affecting southern Africa. How this man managed to tap into the Intelstat transmissions from Europe escapes me.

Cloud cover images were beamed down in digital form to the Intelstat receiver in Europe. Eight hours later, having been processed into usable form, the information was transmitted to a network of official receiver stations that subscribed to the service. Surreptitious interception of these signals in Salisbury obviously cost nothing but the data acquired had to be processed in a special way to get a printout resembling a photograph of cloud formations over southern Africa, as seen by the satellite. At around 10:00 every day this cloud-map arrived at Air HQ.

The cloud-maps were important to us because reports from weather stations to the north of Rhodesia were completely unreliable. Although the images we received were rather poor by modern standards, they were sufficient to warn of any major weather fronts that might affect operational planning. Nevertheless, they could not be relied upon to forecast localised orographic and thermal cloud situations that might afect long-range operations.

With the best will in the world, and using every available strike aircraft, the Air Force could not hope to produce the meaningful kill and serious wound rates we needed, because Chimoio was made up of so many camps spread over a vast area. There was no alternative but to use the very best available fighting soldiers to assault the targets immediately after a maximum-effort jet-strike.

Chimoio lay over ninety kilometres from the Rhodesian border and Tembue was almost three times that distance. However, Norman and Brian agreed that these distances favoured them in that they were both convinced neither ZANLA nor FRELIMO would seriously expect a combined air and ground attack so far from Rhodesia’s border. Until now, all combined external operations had occurred very close to the border.

The Selous Scouts’ attack on Nyadzonya Base in August 1976 had quite obviously taught ZANLA not to concentrate its forces, which is why Chimoio Base comprised so many small camps widely spread; and to a lesser extent this also applied to Tembue. Though the wide spread of targets compounded planning difficulties, it did not alter the planners’ view that ZANLA felt perfectly safe from anything but air attack, particularly with FRELIMO’s main base at Chimoio (previously Vila Pery) being so close by.

Planning the air attacks was simple enough and the selection of troops was obvious; the SAS and RLI would be used. But any idea of employing a mobile column to get a large ground force to either target was a non-starter as surprise would be impossible to achieve. Interference from FRELIMO would certainly occur early and involve heavy fighting most of the way to target, thereby giving ZANLA all the time in the world to vacate their bases. It was clear therefore that the ground force had to go in by air and be recovered the same way.

Our total airlift capacity was very small, which meant that very few troops would be taking on overwhelming enemy numbers, particularly at Chimoio. Only total surprise could turn ZANLA’s numerical advantage to SAS and RLI favour, providing ongoing close-air support was available.

The general military principle of attacking an enemy with a force three times larger was a pipe dream. Even if every soldier in Rhodesia was made available, this could not be achieved. It had to be accepted that, at Chimoio, the troops would be outnumbered by at least fifty to one but OC SAS was not put off by these impossible odds, providing total surprise could be achieved.

Any idea of aircraft returning to Rhodesia for second-wave troops was discounted since this would take too long to have any meaningful effect on the ground in the critical first hour of fighting. In any case the trooper helicopters would first have to refuel inside Mozambique as soon as they had deposited the first wave of troops, thereby adding to the delay in getting back to Rhodesia for a second lift. If such troops were used it would also multiply post-operation recovery difficulties.

To meet all requirements in what would surely be a full day of fighting, fuel and ammunition reserves would have to be available close to the battle sites at Chimoio and Tembue. Norman named these positions ‘admin bases’ into which a small force of protection troops, with all fuel and reserve ammunition, would have to be delivered by parachute at the same time that troops were landing in the target areas. No such luxury as a medical team could be considered. An Air Force officer would have to be at the Admin Base to co-ordinate all activities in and out of there.

There was no way of pre-judging the level or consequence of aircraft and troop losses that might occur in each battle or, heaven forbid, if an admin base was overrun. To cater for such unforeseen situations, and because every participating soldier would have to be airlifted back to Rhodesia, it was essential to retain a sizeable reserve of trooper helicopters as close to the action as safely possible. There were only thirty-two helicopters available. One would have to be specially prepared as a command helicopter with every radio frequency needed to control both air and ground actions. Another would be dedicated to the Admin Base commander, who would also carry all radio spares.

This left thirty helicopters; ten would carry troops to target, ten would take offensive action as K-Cars and the remaining ten would be held in reserve with back-up spares. The reserve helicopters would participate in the recovery of troops at the conclusion of operations.

Six Dakotas were available to deliver 145 SAS and RLI paratroopers, and another forty RLI could be carried to target in the ten trooper helicopters. Assuming that at least 1,000 ZANLA had been neutralised during the opening air strikes, just 185 men on the ground would face at least 10,000 armed ZANLA at Chimoio. Although assigned to their own specific targets, the ten K-Cars, carrying double loads of 20mm ammunition, could be called upon to assist troops where necessary. A civilian DC7 aircraft, flown by its owner Captain Jack Malloch, was made available to parachute-in the admin area protection troops, ammunition and fuel.

Norman Walsh planned to fly the command helicopter himself to control all air activity. Sitting with him would be Brian Robinson as overall commander of ground forces. Their helicopter would give them freedom to move about the target area to direct the ground battle or stand off if anti-air action made this impossible.

A specially equipped Dakota carrying General Peter Walls, Peter McLurg and a small staff would cruise around at height near the border to keep in touch with the command helicopter and provide immediate communications with COMOPS, Thornhill, New Sarum and the reserve helicopters.

Following their opening strikes, all jets would rush home to rearm and remain at immediate airborne or ground readiness to take on difficult enemy positions as they arose. This might include FRELIMO forces with tanks, should they choose to become involved.

Put very simply—that was the plan.

Op Dingo briefing

OPERATION DINGO WAS THE CODENAME given to the attacks on Chimoio and Tembue. Phase One was to be the attack against Chimoio on 23 November 1977. On completion, all helicopters were to move to Mtoko with their contingent of troops and the paratrooper element was to position at New Sarum preparatory to launching the long-range Phase Two attack against Tembue on 25 November.

I knew everything concerning Norman’s airstrike plans because he had involved me in formulating them; but that was all I knew. He had not mentioned the use of ground forces until, at short notice, I learned that I was to be the Admin Base commander for both operations and was to attend a two-phase briefing at New Sarum on Tuesday 22 November. The reason Norman Walsh selected me for the Admin Base task was to give me opportunity to inspect the areas of jet-strikes so that I could analyse the effectiveness of our locally made weapons in live target situations.

One of 3 Squadron’s hangars had been cleared and grandstands from the station sports field had been erected around a large-scale model of Chimoio Base. Present for the briefing were all the service commanders, senior staff officers from COMOPS and all active participants from the Air Force and Army. I remember the noise and excitement levels being incredible. Absolute silence fell when Captain Scotty McCormack of the SAS took centre stage to commence his target intelligence briefing on Chimoio. Having done this so many times for COMOPS, Scotty needed no notes for his excellent, smooth-flowing presentation. Much of what he had to say was new to me, even though I had known about Chimoio for months.

To assist in the briefing and to facilitate easy target identification during the operation itself, a single photograph of the entire Chimoio complex of camps was handed to every participant. This photograph incorporated grid lines bearing alphabetic letters for the vertical lines and numerical numbering for the lateral ones. The same grid was overlaid on the target model.

Norman Walsh followed Scotty and commenced the air briefing by saying H-hour for Chimoio was 23:07:45 Bravo. He then outlined the operational sequence with specific timings before giving a detailed briefing to each participating squadron.

He revealed that he had arranged for a DC8 jet-liner to over-fly Chimoio at H-hour minus ten minutes in the hopes that this would have every CT diving for cover. He expected that, by the time the lead Hunter struck, ZANLA CTs would have realised that they had over-reacted to a passing civilian airliner and would be mustering for the regular 08:00 parade.

Using a long pointer and giving grid references directly from the target model, Norman indicated old farm buildings on the western side of the main concentration of camps. These were the headquarters and living quarters of ZANLA’s top commanders, Josiah Tongogara and Rex Nhongo. The first pair of Hunters, delivering Golf bombs against these HQ buildings, would initiate the air action spot on H-hour. Their Golf bomb detonations would act as confirming markers for a formation of four Canberras closing in from the west at low level to strike twenty seconds later. Smoke and dust from the Golf bombs would assist the lead bomber to ensure that the formation was correctly aligned with its targets commencing from the western edge of the HQ complex and stretching eastward.

Front-gun, Frantan and rocket attacks by Hunters and Vampires would follow the Canberras, striking against targets Norman indicated in sequence of attacks. At this time, the Dakotas would already be making their final run, three down the western flank of the main concentration of camps and three along the southern flank to drop the assaulting SAS and RLI paratrooper force in a single pass at H-hour plus two minutes.

Because of the noise factor, particularly over the flat terrain around Chimoio, the helicopters would be coming in well behind the quiet Dakotas. This meant that the paratroopers would already be on the ground before the command helicopter and K-Cars reached them at H-hour plus seven minutes. However, Hunter and Vampire strikes would still be in progress for much of this intervening time. Flying on the north side of the K-Cars would be ten trooper helicopters to place RLI in a stop-line along the north side of Chimoio Base.

With troops north, west and south of the primary targets, four K-Cars were assigned to ‘close the gap’ by operating along a line across open fields commencing at camps in the southeast all the way up to the left flank of the RLI stop-line. The other six K-Cars would take on satellite camps lying west of the main target and to the rear of the assault troops.

A single helicopter assigned to the Admin Base, carrying spare radios and me, was to break away from the trooper helicopters and land in the assigned Admin Base area. My first job was to direct the DC7 for its deliveries of the Admin Base protection troops, fuel and ammunition. Thereafter I had to oversee all activity including refuelling, repairs and casevacs for helicopters moving to and from the target that was a little under ten kilometres away.

The command Dakota carrying General Walls and his staff had all the equipment needed to communicate with the command helicopter on VHF and COMOPS via HF and teleprinters. This aircraft was to rove at height, up and down the Rhodesian border. Peter McLurg would provide the link through which Norman could bring in reserve helicopters waiting at Lake Alexander or jets from New Sarum and Thornhill.

To keep security as tight as possible, helicopters positioning at Lake Alexander, which lay twenty-five kilometres north of Umtali, were to fly from New Sarum and Grand Reef during the early hours, refuel and be ready for lift-off by no later than H-hour minus 90 minutes. Lift-off from Lake Alexander would be at H-hour minus one hour five minutes. Norman then gave details of how the DC7, Dakotas and jet aircraft were to launch from New Sarum and jets from Thornhill. Included were details of the ten reserve helicopters that would move from Grand Reef to Lake Alexander once the main force was clear.

Recovery of everyone back to Grand Reef, except for an SAS stay-behind force of ninety-seven men, had to be completed before nightfall. For this, all helicopters from the reserve pool at Lake Alexander would be called forward to assist the GCars and K-Cars already in the op area.

To be recovered were forty-eight RLI assault troops with parachutes, forty RLI troops of the northern stop-line, the admin area protection troops with parachutes, me and as many cargo parachutes as possible. No fuel drums, whether full or empty, would be recovered or destroyed.

The SAS stay-behind troops remaining in the target overnight were to be uplifted early next morning. Details for this recovery would be given at a separate briefing at Grand Reef. Norman concluded his briefing with details on VHF channels along with general and emergency procedures.

As commander of ground forces, Major Brian Robinson made his briefing in his usual crisp, clear manner aided by the target model, many charts and signals network diagrams. His in-depth briefing on all troop movements, all cross-referenced to Norman’s briefing, completed the entire operational presentation. An operational order issued with maps and target photos assisted operators to follow the briefings and fully comprehend their tasks.

When these presentations ended and all questions had been answered, there was a noisy tea break in the Parachute Training School hangar before everyone reassembled for the briefing on Tembue. The venue and set-up for this briefing remained the same as for Chimoio, except that the centrepiece was now the Tembue target model, suitably marked with the same grid markings that appeared on photographs of the target.

The briefing followed the same format as for Chimoio but only took half as long to complete because radio networks and basic procedures remained unaltered. On completion, General Walls gave a short address before everyone rushed off to prepare for an early-morning start.

Chimoio attack

FLIGHT LIEUTENANT BILL SYKES WAS assigned to take me to the Admin Base. Our helicopter, together with twenty-one others, lifted from the 7 Squadron helicopter pad and headed for Lake Alexander. Different routes were used so as not to draw attention to unusually large numbers of helicopters heading for a single destination on the eastern border. The remaining ten helicopters were to move up later from Grand Reef.

Rough ground sloping up from Lake Alexander rose to a foresters’ road running parallel to and some 300 metres on the south side of the water’s edge. Full fuel drums had been laid out along this road during the night. This was not an ideal site because the helicopters were stretched out in a long line which necessitated quite a long walk for some crews to attend a final briefing which ended just as trucks rolled in with forty RLI soldiers.

OC 7 Squadron, Squadron Leader Harold Griffiths, who had to lead the formation of twenty-two helicopters, showed some concern because the weather was not as clear as had been forecast. Lake Alexander lay in high ground on the lee side of the higher range of mountains that formed the border between Rhodesia and the low ground of Mozambique. A moist air mass flowing from Mozambique was being forced to rise over the mountains, creating a continuous line of cumulus cloud whose base was at ground level along the borderline itself. Mountain-flying experience had shown that it was usually possible to remain visual under such cloud formation by following steep-sided river valleys and Griff had selected such a valley to break through into Mozambique.

When the time came to move, Griff led the way, heading for the valley but found his way blocked and had to turn about. Helicopters flying the loop caused by this diversion presented an impressive sight but timing was such a critical issue that the delay immediately became cause for concern. Fortunately, when he was heading north for a second valley, Griff spotted Mozambican ground to his right under a very small lift in the cloud base. This allowed all the helicopters to pass through before dense cloud reformed at ground level behind the last helicopter. All helicopters then descended to the low ground, initially over abandoned Portuguese farmlands for the run to target. With helicopters all around and flying low over exquisite countryside, it was hard to fully comprehend the fact that we were on a deadly mission with all hell about to break loose. Halfway to target I was surprised to see the DC7 cruise past on our port side looking quite splendid against the African backdrop. Almost immediately it turned to commence continuous orbits to stay behind the formation of helicopters.

The main force had over ten minutes to run to target when Bill Sykes broke away, heading directly for the Admin Base. When we reached it, I was startled to find that this was not the fairly open area of ground that I had expected. Although undoubtedly the most suitable site for miles around, it was covered with fairly high grass interspersed with clumps of dense scrub that occupied almost half of the assigned area.

At about this time the reserve helicopters from Grand Reef were approaching Lake Alexander.

Bill Sykes and I did not see the airstrikes going in southeast of us but landed to prepare to take the DC7 drops. The rotors had not yet stopped turning when I spotted the big aircraft already running in from the east. It was two minutes too early, yet the Admin Base protection troops were already peeling out of the huge cargo door before I had a chance to call Squadron Leader George Alexander, who was flying second pilot to Captain Jack Malloch.

The DC7 lumbered past and rolled into a slow starboard turn to re-position for its second drop. On the ground and out of sight 500 metres away, the troops were gathering up their parachutes, well beyond the position I would have placed them; had I been given the chance. As the aircraft lined up for its second run, I called George by callsign, instructing “Red light on…” then waited for the position I wanted the first fuel drop to be launched. However, well before this position, the first pallet of drums was followed rapidly by three more. All were descending way, way short, just as first helicopters arrived over the Admin Base.

George Alexander, an excitable man at the best of times (he was part-Greek), cursed the helicopter pilots for being in the way of the DC7 that was, by necessity, staggering along close to stalling speed. I could see that all the helicopters were well clear but George who was used to Air Traffic Control separation was unaccustomed to seeing other aircraft so close to his. This was not Salisbury Airport! It was a piece of foreign bush supposedly controlled by a man, me, whose instructions were either not being received, or were being ignored because of George’s stressed state. The helicopter pilots ignored his curses and landed next to me.

One of the trooper helicopters had taken serious hits that rendered it unfit to fly, even for a one-time flight to Rhodesia. The others could not take on fuel immediately, because my instructions continued to be ignored and fuel drops were going in where George chose to place them. When eventually the Chimoio operation was over, George claimed he had not received my instructions, even though the helicopter pilots had heard them clearly.

I had abandoned any hope of getting fuel and ammunition down where I needed them when Norman Walsh arrived, way ahead of time. His command helicopter was shot up and he needed to borrow another in a hurry. Both he and Brian were deeply frustrated by their unplanned absence from the action at the most critical time in the battle; but there was no aircraft immediately available.

Fortunately I had already arranged for the RLI protection troops, who should have been climbing a small feature next to the Admin Base to watch for enemy movement, to roll some drums clear of the drop zone so that helicopters could commence refuelling. The first machine to be refuelled was commandeered by Norman and Brian who rushed back to the action.

I inspected the command helicopter and the other damaged one. A complete main rotor head change was needed on the command aircraft and the other needed replacement of the entire tail cone. There was no hope of switching the complex radio system on the command aircraft, so I asked the 7 Squadron technicians present if they thought it possible to substitute the command helicopter’s damaged main rotor head with the good one from the aircraft requiring tail cone change. “What a question, sir. We will have it done sooner than you think.” With no rigging equipment or specialised tools, half a dozen technicians and two pilots descended on both aircraft with standard tools and plenty of energy.

I moved away from the repair party to attend to the removal of parachutes from drum and ammunition pallets lying in open ground so that helicopters could land next to them. This was important because parachutes blown up by rotor-wash could be drawn into spinning rotor blades with disastrous consequences. I was still dealing with this when the repaired command helicopter was flown in right next to me to be refuelled. I was happy to let Norman Walsh know his aircraft was ready for him. Being unable to communicate directly with the Command Dak, I asked Norman to arrange for a set of rotor blades and a tail assembly to be flown in from Lake Alexander. These arrived a little after midday and by 4 o’clock the damaged machine was ready to fly.

Many drums had landed amongst high bushes which necessitated manhandling them into positions where helicopters could land. There was no alternative but to use all available pilots and technicians as well as the RLI protection troops who, to their credit, never hesitated or moaned but got stuck into these onerous tasks. No sooner had they completed the work than I had to impose a lighter but equally onerous task on them. This was to flatten most of the low scrub for improved landing space, concentrate empty drums lying on their sides and position full drums standing up at twenty assigned spots so that crews coming in for fuel could differentiate between full and empty drums.

K-Car pilots and gunners arriving to refuel and re-arm reported that they were having a tough time with high volumes of small arms, anti-aircraft gunfire and more targets than they could handle. Flight Lieutenant Mark McLean, who had taken early retirement from the Air Force, was on call-up for Op Dingo. Sporting a beard he would not have been allowed to wear in regular service, he landed and removed his shattered bone dome. The graze and large swelling above his right eye bore witness to how close he had come to death from a vertical bullet-strike that had torn a section out of his protective helmet.

As with Mark’s aircraft, every other K-Car had taken many small- and large-calibre strikes, but none too serious to keep them from returning to the fray.

Mark had been allocated a satellite target that was believed to be a camp for wounded veterans who had returned from Rhodesia to recuperate in Mozambique. It seemed to Mark that the intelligence on this ‘soft target’ must have been totally incorrect because there were far more anti-aircraft guns there than at any of the other satellite camps. In consequence he had been forced to call on two other K-Cars to help him neutralise the heavy-calibre guns.

During a few quiet moments at the Admin Base it was possible to hear the rumble of Alpha bomb and rocket strikes that Norman was directing against troublesome anti-aircraft guns and other points of resistance.

During his approach to Chimoio, the medium-level cloud he could see over the target area concerned Norman Walsh. Fortunately this did not trouble Squadron Leader Rich Brand as he led his Hunters in for their initial strikes. He fired 30mm cannons at the Chimoio HQ buildings before Vic Wightman’s Golf bombs hit the same target spot on H-hour. Squadron Leader Randy du Rand saw the Golf bombs exploding exactly where he expected them and led the four Canberras over the smoke and dust to deliver 1,200 Alpha bombs exactly as planned to cover an area of 1.1 kilometres in length by half a kilometre in width.

In spite of the shock effect of the opening air strikes, and those still in progress, some anti-aircraft guns took on the six slow-flying Dakotas as they passed in extended line astern at 500 feet, disgorging heavily laden paratroopers. During their short descent to ground, the paratroopers were surprised to see many CTs running towards them with some already passing directly below. Their drop line had been planned to be far enough from the campsites to ensure that all ZANLA within the primary target area would be contained before the paratroopers landed. As it happened, many paratroopers landed amongst fleeing ZANLA who, though armed, seemed to have only one thing in mind; escape!

Brian Robinson had been right in assuming that CTs would not move out along obvious escape routes but simply run in the direction they happened to be facing. He was wrong in assuming that he had planned an adequate distance from primary targets to the paratrooper drop lines because he had failed to cater for the Olympic speeds stressed CTs could achieve.

Paratrooper commanders had no time to organise their callsigns in the opening minutes, because officers and soldiers were taking on large numbers of ZANLA running from the ongoing air activities. Soon enough the CTs realised their way was blocked, though a few made the deadly error of attempting to fight their way through the troops in hope of gaining safety in the bush beyond.

Hunter and Vampire strikes and re-strikes were still continuing as the SAS and RLI soldiers killed hundreds of panicking CTs. The jets cleared back to base to re-arm as K-Cars moved into action, their cannons adding to the confusion of noise from smallarms and anti-aircraft gunfire.

Those CTs who realised that they were running towards certain death around the perimeter went to ground, allowing the assault troops time to organise themselves for their advance through the camps. The exposed breast of one dead ZANLA, still clutching an AK-47 rifle, confirmed intelligence reports that there were a number of Tanzanian-trained CT females present at Chimoio.

Brian Robinson had only just begun to give his orders when the command helicopter was hit, forcing Norman to clear to the Admin Base. The hiatus caused by the loss of their airborne commander might have been disastrous except for the calibre of men on the ground and in the K-Cars. Nevertheless, the return of Norman Walsh and Brian in the borrowed helicopter, albeit with reduced communication facilities, allowed organised movement to recommence.

Along the entire assault line, soldiers moved forwards continuously killing every ZANLA in their path. With so much ground to cover and with so many CTs in hiding, the fighting went on all day. Independently, K-Cars took on allcomers within and beyond the primary target.

The incoming and outgoing flow of communications to and from the command helicopter was relentless but rewarding. Norman ordered many Hunter and Canberra strikes against tough points to ensure that the roll-up action kept momentum. The gridded photographs of Chimoio allowed him to pass each target point to the striking pilots with pinpoint accuracy. Once his orders were issued, he could get on with other matters without having to oversee the strikes. At times there were as many as four targets lined up for near-simultaneous attention.

Brian Robinson had over sixty callsigns to deal with, a mind-boggling situation that he managed with incredible skill. His numerous actions as the Army commander in Fireforce actions had certainly prepared him well for this high-pressure situation.

Back at the Admin Base, with so much going on around me all at once over such a large area, I experienced moments of helplessness, even panic, when I felt I was not managing to do all that was expected of me. Fortunately our pilots and technicians got on with their work in typically efficient fashion, offering help or simply taking action without my having to ask them to do so. The RLI ‘protection troops’ were outstanding, having developed and maintained a smooth and cheerful routine.

A little after midday one SAS soldier who had been killed in action, Frans Nel, and a couple of casualties were delivered to me. I had been expecting many casualties throughout the day but these were the only ones that came to the Admin Base. This was incredible considering the very high number of dead ZANLA the K-Car pilots reported seeing in their own target areas and in the ground through which the assault troops had passed.

One of the Vampires was crippled by ground fire. Air Lieutenant Phil Haigh was flying the FB9 that sustained damage as it crossed over Vanduzi crossroads on return to base. This caused his engine to fail some way short of the border. Rather than attempt the notoriously dangerous act of abandoning an FB 9, Phil chose to glide across the border and make a forced landing in Rhodesia. This might have worked had the aircraft not run into the deep donga that wrecked the aircraft and killed Phil.

When Norman Walsh called me forward to inspect air weapons’ effects, it was rapidly approaching the time for recovery to Rhodesia; in fact helicopters from Lake Alexander were already airborne en route to uplift troops. It was only in the air on the short leg to Chimoio that I realised just how late it was. With so much noisy activity and so much to do, eight hours appeared to have compressed into mere minutes.

There was too little time to inspect more that a portion of an Alpha bomb strike and one site struck by Golf bombs. Nevertheless this was more than enough to let me see what I needed to see. In fact I saw more than I bargained for and the experience shook me to the very core of my being.

The four-man SAS callsign assigned to protect and assist me were clearly amused by my discomfort at being on the ground. The real fighting was over and for these men Chimoio had become a quiet environment. Not so for one who felt safest in the air. I dropped to ground as bullets cracked overhead then raised myself sheepishly when I realised no one else had taken cover. The next time a flurry of cracks sounded around us, I remained standing when all four SAS had dropped to the ground. “Never mind, sir,” said the nearest soldier, “it’s the ones you don’t hear that you need to worry about.”

The air strike effects were very troubling. Analysing weapons efficiency and counting holes in dummy targets out on a prepared site at Kutanga Range was one thing. To see the same weapons’ effects on human beings was quite another. I had seen many dead Rhodesians and CT killed in Fireforce actions and had witnessed the appalling carnage on civilians blown up by ZANLA landmines; but here I was seeing something more horrifying. Those who had been killed by the troops were greater in number, but somehow their wounds appeared to me to be so much more acceptable than those taken out by bombs.

The SAS men escorting me were used to seeing bodies mutilated by grenades, landmines and even heavy airstrikes. For me it was different. An airman’s war tends to be detached. Even seeing CTs running and going down under air fire seemed remote. Never again did I accept airstrike casualty numbers as the means by which to judge our air successes without remembering the horror of what I saw at Chimoio.

It was a relief to lift off for the return flight to the Admin Base and thence back to Rhodesia.

The sun set as we crossed the border. In darkness we followed a long line of red rotating beacons as the largest-ever gathering of helicopters flew into Grand Reef. No cold beer ever tasted so good!

The Chimoio phase of Op Dingo was almost closed. In one day, ZANLA had lost in excess of 1,200 combatants dead with a much larger number missing or wounded. This had cost Rhodesia two servicemen killed, about six wounded (none seriously) and one Vampire.

The SAS stay-behind forces remained in ambush positions for the night and accounted for more CTs who thought all the Rhodesians had gone home. Early next morning, these men destroyed whatever buildings and equipment remained before helicopters recovered them along with selected equipment, and piles of captured documents.

Chimoio Base lay littered with bodies, burned-out structures and destroyed equipment. Hundreds of wounded ZANLA were pouring into FRELIMO’s provincial town of Chimoio. The two ZANLA commanders we had hoped to take out, Josiah Tongogara and Rex Nhongo, were not in base and escaped as they had done before and would do time and time again.

We knew that, when they gathered courage to do so, ZANLA’s leadership would visit the battle-site to ensure that all evidence of ZANLA’s arms was removed. They must do this before calling international observers to witness the burial of ‘Zimbabwean refugees’ because ZANLA had registered Chimoio Base, along with all other military establishments, as a refugee camp.

We knew that particular attention would be given to showing the UN High Commission for Refugees the bodies of a number of teenagers killed at Chimoio. These were the school children that had been forced, or enticed, to leave schools in Rhodesia to undergo military training in Mozambique. No doubt the chalk boards and timetables the SAS soldiers had seen in two classrooms would have been cleared of their Marxist slogans and instructions on weapons-handling. They were sure to have been adorned with make-believe items ‘to prove their good works in teenager education’.

Phase One of Op Dingo was over. The countdown for Phase Two had already started as emergency repairs to the helicopters were hurried through with little time to spare.

Tembue attack

THE EASTERN SKY HAD ONLY just begun to light up on Friday, 25 November, as twenty-two helicopters lifted out of Mtoko and Mount Darwin on the first leg of the 320-kilometre journey to Tembue. The reserve force of ten helicopters was to follow one hour later with spares.

Squadron Leader Rex Taylor, with a small team of Air Force VR and RLI troops, awaited the arrival of the helicopters at a ‘staging base’. This base was sited at the eastern end of a long, flat, high feature known as ‘the Train’ lying between the Rhodesian border and Lake Cabora Bassa in Tete Province. The mountain was so named because, when viewed from the south, it resembled a steam engine with a long line of carriages travelling in a westerly direction. Our landing point approximated to the position of the guard’s van.

Rex and his men had positioned the previous day to receive a large supply of fuel by para-drop. With plenty of time to spare, the fuel drums had been set out neatly throughout the open ground of the staging base and all parachutes were stacked out of harm’s way. Everything seemed unhurried as the helicopters refuelled in the crisp, early morning air.

The 176-kilometre leg from here to Tembue would normally be the maximum range for an Alouette carrying a full load of laden troops inside Rhodesia. However, being only 2,000 feet above sea level in cold conditions, it was possible for the trooper helicopters to carry an extra ten-minutes’ worth of fuel to cater for unexpected situations. Norman Walsh’s command helicopter and the K-Cars with full fuel-loads could fly to Tembue and remain over target for a little more than one hour.

I enjoyed flying low-level over territory that was so familiar to me from my recce days. The countryside was quite breathtaking and not a soul was to be seen with so much noise from so many helicopters—anyone around had disappeared into hiding. The Cabora Bassa dam was about ten meters below its maximum level and I was astonished to see how much the water had eroded the banks along hillsides with long stretches of vertical walls at water’s edge. Eight minutes from target, we heard the Hunter and Canberra radio transmissions as they made their airstrikes, dead on time. Earlier the six Dakotas had passed the helicopter force as they ran in to drop SAS and RLI paratroopers. My helicopter broke away from the others as they passed the Admin Base area. This site was populated by small trees and short grass but had plenty of openings for individual helicopters.

We landed in the centre of the selected location in the largest open space in the entire area. My immediate problem was to get the protection party down where I was and have fuel evenly distributed in the Admin Base area. George Alexander in the DC7, again flown by Captain Jack Malloch, responded perfectly to all instructions.

I had to climb onto the roof of the helicopter to see the DC7 early enough to give direction. “Red light on… five degrees right… steady… Green light.” George was listening this time. Troops and pallets descended right where I wanted them on runs left, right, short and over my position. There was a tense moment when one pallet appeared to be descending directly onto me but, happily, it drifted enough to crash through a tree next to the helicopter.

The Admin Base was only six kilometres from the nearest edge of the target so we could hear the K-Cars firing quite clearly; otherwise the bush absorbed all sounds of smallarms fire. The Tembue Admin Base task was a cakewalk compared to Chimoio. All the trooper helicopters arrived and landed well clear of the cargo parachutes. The aircrews quickly disconnected them from the pallets, bundled them neatly and moved them centrally for easy recovery. Rolling the drums and standing them up in small clumps at each helicopter landing point was hot, sweaty work for the crews who completed the job before the first K-Cars arrived in the Admin Base.

The protection troops deployed in all-round defence and were not seen again. There was only one drama in the Admin Base. Very few hits were sustained by K-Cars whose pilots reported fewer targets than they had seen in any part of Chimoio and a great deal less anti-aircraft fire. Nevertheless, one K-Car engine had taken a strike that necessitated its replacement. The technicians, using fuel drums as a working platform, made the engine change, and the helicopter that had flown it in completed the round trip from and to ‘the Train’ in less than six hours.

It was late in the day when I went forward to be escorted by an SAS callsign through sections of the airstrike areas. The Alpha and Golf bomb effects were less gory than I had seen at Chimoio. However, my main interest at Tembue was to inspect the area of a flechette strike. During the planning phase of Op Dingo, I had asked Norman Walsh to consider using flechettes if he felt there was a target that suited them. Although he liked the idea, he decided against using flechettes at Chimoio because there would certainly be an international outcry following the inevitable inspection by the United Nations High Commission for Refugees. He chose rather to use one Hunter to drop a pair of flechette dispensers on the parade ground at Tembue. This was duly done.

Regrettably the daily parade had been postponed on this particular day; Sod’s law—the base commander was suffering from a hangover so the parade square was vacant at the time of strike. A lone tree just short of the parade ground, on the right side of the attack line, was tightly embedded with flechettes from its uppermost branches all the way down to the base of its trunk. The entire parade site itself was crowded with partially embedded pink tail fins that had separated from steel shafts now buried below surface. Nobody, but nobody, would have survived the daily parade had it been held at the routine time.

FRELIMO, in their own base no more than three kilometres away from the ZANLA base, had no desire to come to the assistance of their comrades. This was pleasing because there was no external interference of troops who systematically winkled out ZANLA. Close-range firefights left many ZANLA dead with no casualties to the SAS and RLI. Out on the flanks, RLI stop groups accounted for CTs trying to escape past their positions.

Late in the afternoon, Canberras returned to attack ground surrounding an abandoned Portuguese store, thirty-five kilometres to the north of Tembue. This location had only come to notice when a captured terrorist revealed that there was a concentration of trained ZANLA residing there. The Canberra crews reported that their Alpha strike had been on target and later it was learned that ZANLA at that site had suffered many casualties, most having been seriously wounded.

Departure from Tembue occurred later than intended. On the way home one helicopter pilot reported being so low on fuel that he would not be able to reach ‘the Train’. Norman Walsh instructed him to put down on a small uninhabited island in the middle of Cabora Bassa Lake and arranged for fuel drop by a Dakota that had been on standby for such an eventuality.

Even before reaching Cabora Bassa, we could see a huge storm building up way to the south along the Rhodesian escarpment. Being so late, there was concern about having to pass through this after sunset, so helicopters arriving at ‘the Train’ refuelled and departed for Mount Darwin independently. The earliest ones, including mine, managed to bypass the heavy rain centres under heavy cloud. Tail-end Charlies were not so fortunate and I became really concerned when a fair number of the helicopters, including the command helicopter, were well overdue. As the night progressed, we received calls from various widely dispersed places reporting the arrival of helicopters that were remaining in situ for the night. All had been accounted for by 8 o’clock. Norman Walsh, who held back to ensure that the crew from the little island on Cabora Bassa reached ‘the Train’ safely, was forced to land at Chiswiti near the base of the escarpment.

He and Brian Robinson were thoroughly exhausted but very relieved that Operation Dingo was now behind them. Both phases had been totally successful and they had no intention of allowing their unplanned stop to deny them from celebrating their joint success. They found the local Army base pub and proceeded to drink it dry; or so we heard.

Next morning, helicopters returned to Tembue via ‘the Train’ to collect the SAS stay-behind force. Upon their return, Op Dingo ended.

For their superb planning and personal participation in these two operations, Group Captain Norman Walsh, BCR, and Major Brian Robinson, MCM, were made Officers of the Legion of Merit (Operational). They certainly deserved it. Harold Griffiths received the Jacklin Trophy from Air Marshal Mick McLaren on behalf of 7 Squadron for a year of astonishing successes, not the least being Op Dingo.

Effectiveness of Op Dingo

OPERATION DINGO COST ZANLA IN excess of 3,000 trained men killed and something in the order of 5,000 wounded, many too seriously to be of further use. Others lost all interest in fighting and deserted.

The two phases of Dingo involved the largest concentration of our air and ground effort for over four-and-a-half days and had cost us two dead, six wounded and a Vampire lost. But the successes achieved were astounding when compared to our gains inside the country during the eight-week period immediately preceding Dingo. At considerably higher costs in hours flown and weapons expended by jet, light fixed-wing and helicopter airstrikes, as recorded in 105 ASRs, only 283 CTs were positively known to have been killed with forty-two captured. There were almost certainly more CTs killed and wounded, both internally and externally, during this period but the combined figures could not compare with those of Op Dingo. Additionally, more servicemen were killed and wounded and one Lynx was lost inside the country during the same eight-week period. Two of those killed were Air Force men. They were Air Lieutenant du Plessis and Sergeant Underwood who crashed a Lynx in mountainous terrain whilst making a Frantan attack in support of Fireforce.

One important aspect of the Op Dingo successes was that it lifted moral amongst the forces and white population at a time when many civilians had lost all hope in the country’s future. Emigration figures were alarming and the civilian Territorial Force was shrinking noticeably. This had less to do with terrorism and never-ending problems with Britain and the West as with doubts about South Africa’s willingness to continue supporting us. The media said little about South African attitudes but, on their return to Rhodesia from visits to South Africa, Ian Smith’s and his ministers’ faces showed that things had changed. Gone were the smiles that were always evident after such visits. After the Portuguese collapsed our politicians looked drained and grim; the odd smile so obviously forced.

For months Ian Smith had been negotiating with local African leaders for an internal settlement that would raise Africans to political leadership under a Westminster-styled constitution. Joshua Nkomo and Robert Mugabe had been invited to participate. Both refused, preferring armed force to gain personal power. The need to end unnecessary loss of life by Rhodesians killing Rhodesians was not for them. In fact their craving for personal power stripped them of any sense of concern for the huge numbers of people they had wasted and those they were still prepared to sacrifice.

One man involved in the internal negotiations was Bishop Abel Muzorewa, the weak-kneed leader of UANC (United African National Council). Notwithstanding the recalcitrant attitudes of Nkomo and Mugabe, his reaction to the Chimoio and Tembue raids was to declare a week of national mourning. Although nobody seemed to pay the slightest attention to his call, it made whites wonder why Muzorewa, by then recognised as the most likely political figure to become first Prime Minister of a black majority government, could be mourning the loss of Mugabe’s CTs when he had so openly declared them to be our enemies.

Ian Smith told the nation that the move to establish black rule in the country was to everyone’s advantage, but Muzorewa’s action did little to improve the confidence of those who had already lost hope. Nor did it stem the spreading gloom. Nevertheless regular force personnel were well pleased with the outcome of Op Dingo and remained steadfast in trusting Government to solve the political issues. Theirs was the job of containing the forces of two power-hungry and fortuneseeking demagogues.

Operation Virile

UNLIKE THE OPERATIONS HURRICANE AND Repulse areas where CTs had some distance to move through tribal lands before reaching white-owned farms, towns and strategic targets, Op Thrasher CTs entered directly into the commercial farming areas. Op Dingo had to a large extent blunted a westward drive from Chimoio that extended from Inyanga in the north down to Chipinga in the south. However, just prior to the attack on Chimoio, Selous Scouts had been cleared for an operation that aimed to stem the high flow of CTs moving into the Chipinga area. At the time ZANLA were able to travel unhindered from Chimoio along a primary roadway right up to the FRELIMO garrison town, Espungabera, sited alongside the Rhodesian border.

Operation Virile, another of Selous Scouts vehicle-borne fighting columns, should have launched three days before Op Dingo, but it was held over for fear that it would stir up FRELIMO and ZANLA to the detriment of the Chimoio operation. In addition, the nature of the Scouts operation made it plain that jet support might be needed but this could not be guaranteed whilst Op Dingo was in progress. In consequence, Op Virile was only launched on the night of 26/27 November.

Much had changed because clearance was given for Selous Scouts to destroy five bridges inside Mozambique and close air-support was included as a matter of course; a very refreshing reversal on earlier limitations. Because of the Chimoio and Tembue raids, it seemed that Vorster’s obsessions with détente had fallen away and that Bishop Muzorewa had become South Africa’s new hope. The usual ‘political denial’ had not been imposed because the bridges were of limited economic importance to Mozambique’s overall economy. We really welcomed this change and saw it as the thin edge of a big wedge.

The objectives of this particular operation were to deny ZANLA vehicular access to the border by dropping five key road bridges between Dombe (near Chimoio) and Espungabera and destroy all motorised transport between the bridges.

As it progressed ever deeper into hostile territory, the large column enjoyed almost continuous daylight cover by a Lynx carrying Selous Scout Captain Athol Gillespie. His jobs were to give early warning of enemy vehicle movements, to provide the main force a continuous VHF radio link with its forward HQ at Chipinga and maintain communications with a rearguard force inside Mozambique, near Espungabera.

On the first day when the column was about halfway to its first objective, the bridge over the large fast-flowing Mabvudzi River, Air Lieutenant Chris Tucker flying the Lynx destroyed a Land Rover-sized vehicle that was moving towards the column. A pair of Hunters, flown by Rich Brand and Spook Geraty, had already cleaned up some larger vehicles farther east, but the weather precluded further Hunter involvement, forcing Chris to take on a number of targets on his own. By the 30 November the force was back in Rhodesia having successfully dropped the five bridges; a job made so much easier and safer by air support.

Black Friday

MANY FIREFORCE ACTIONS CONTINUED TO occur internally with variable results and limited RSF losses. This changed dramatically in a matter of hours in the Op Hurricane area on Friday 12 January 1978. Air Lieutenant Francois du Toit, the young officer I had trained in recce when he was still with SAAF, had been on helicopters for some time when he led a Fireforce action supported by another K-Car and three G-Cars. The Fireforce had been in an action initiated by the detection of an activated ‘road-runner’ (doctored portable radio).

The action became slightly confused by a second ‘roadrunner’ signal emanating from the same general area. However, typical for the time of year, the bush was very thick and because the ground force of seventeen stops groups were largely inexperienced PATU men, only three CTs were killed. The action was not yet over when K-Car 2, flown by Air Lieutenant Chaz Goatley with gunner, Flight Sergeant Ian (Flamo) Flemming, had to leave to refuel at Mtoko. On their way they came under heavy fire from dense bush resulting in the instant death of Ian Flemming. Francois in the K-Car immediately moved across and soon had G-Cars ferrying stops directly from the first scene to the new one. Then the airborne Army commander, Lieutenant Adams, was hit in the hand and was transferred to the lead GCar flown by Air Lieutenant Mantovani, who took many hits as he lifted off. On arrival at Mtoko his G-Car was grounded.

A number of stops had already been deployed when a G-Car flown by Air Lieutenant Norman (Bambam) Maasdorp with gunner Flight Sergeant Henry Jarvie, came in with another load of troops. Just before touchdown they came under heavy fire and Henry Jarvie was killed. Norman and one soldier were wounded, and the aircraft was severely damaged necessitating a forced landing close to the CTs. The only remaining G-Car flown by Air Lieutenant Thorogood uplifted everyone from the downed helicopter and flew them off to Mtoko, leaving the two K-Cars and a Lynx, flown by Group Captain John Mussell, over the scene. By nightfall the only serviceable GCar had brought in the last of the stops from the first scene, and Francois arranged all the callsigns into over-night ambush positions. One of these positions was attacked by about 20 CTs during the night and a soldier was killed.

During the frustrating and somewhat confused day-action the CTs had the advantage of unusually thick bush cover and, apparently, only lost two killed. We, on the other hand, had lost three killed and three wounded with two helicopters needing expensive repairs.

I had just returned to Air HQ from weapons testing at Kutanga Range and walked into the Ops Room as news came through about Henry Jarvie and Ian Flemming. News of this shocking loss stunned everyone, but none so badly as me. I suffered an assault on all my emotions, such as never before and remember asking aloud, “Oh my God, why should such a terrible thing happen?”

The mainstay of our force undoubtedly lay with our technical men. As their OC on 4 Squadron, Henry Jarvie, the loveable clown, and Ian Flemming, the quiet good-natured armourer, had been two vitally important individuals. Following their transfer to helicopters, their personalities and talents benefited 7 Squadron greatly. But, that these two superb young men should die in the same Fireforce action was impossible to comprehend or accept. 12 January had been a very Black Friday for the Air Force.

Mini-golf bombs

I WAS SO AFFECTED BY THE loss of Henry and Flamo that I flew to Mtoko to talk to all the Fireforce participants. The problems they revealed were not new ones. Theirs had been the ongoing rainy season issue of not being able to see CTs, even when they had a fair idea of the general source of ground fire. I flew with Francois du Toit to view the contact area and whilst he was giving me a running commentary of the events, I came up with an idea that I guessed would turn similar situations to our advantage.

Had a pair of Hunters been immediately available to deliver four Golf bombs along the line of bush in which the CTs were known to be, the shock effect on survivors would undoubtedly have been significant. However, considering the time needed to bring in the jets from Thornhill, the casualties would already have occurred and the location of the stop groups would have disallowed the use of Golf bombs anyway.

John Mussell’s Lynx flying in support of the Fireforce action had been of little value even though he was immediately available all the time. This made me wonder if my project team could produce a weapon for the Lynx that would, in similar circumstances, provide severe shock effects with meaningful lethal range against CTs whose precise positions were not known.

By the time I reached Salisbury, I had decided what was needed and a new project was born to exploit existing Golf-bomb technology. My intention was to provide Lynx with a sizeable punch in the form of a ‘mini-Golf bomb’.

As always, the project team engineers and Ron Dyer responded enthusiastically, and the requirement was discussed at length before we launched into Project Juliet. At the conclusion of this project, the weapon we produced was not nicknamed the Juliet bomb but became known by the term I had first used—the ‘Mini-golf’ bomb.

The Mini-golf took a great deal of time to develop because of numerous safety features that had to be built into the design to cater for low level release from the relatively slow-flying Lynx. It turned out to be an ugly tail-less beast that was designed for release at the end of a standard front-guns attack. The ANFO charge was contained in a thin-skinned steel cylinder surrounded by thousands of steel slugs entrapped by a 6mm steel outer-casing. Upon release, the bomb deployed a large parachute from its rear. The parachute’s function was to retard the bomb sharply and pitch it to the vertical before it reached ground.

Simultaneous with the parachute deployment, an electric-switch device, housed in the sphere of an Alpha bomb outer casing, was released from its anchors in the nose cone. We named this device ‘the seeker’. Para-retardation on the bomb forced the seeker to fly forward of the bomb, drawing out a five-metre electric cable. When this cable was fully extended, batteries were brought into alignment to complete a link between the electrical switch in the seeker and the bomb’s detonator.

Early trials from 150 feet were frustrating because the speed and trajectory of the seeker was faster, and therefore shallower, than that of the retarding bomb until the electric cable was fully extended. This had the effect of bringing the seeker level with the bomb, until the bomb itself was facing vertically downwards. Only then did the seeker start to move forward of the bomb. This problem was overcome by simply increasing the release height to 300 feet to allow time for the seeker to reach its correct position before it contacted ground. On impact with the ground, the seeker’s circuit closed to fire the bomb five metres above it.

The Mini-golf’s high airburst was necessary to cater for CTs lying in ground depressions, dongas and riverbeds. To ensure the fullest possible effects of over-pressure, and to make certain that all shrapnel was directed laterally and downwards, the initiating Pentolite booster was installed at the rear of the ANFO charge. This forced propagation of the explosive wave in a shallow downward facing cone. The system worked well and gave effective over-pressure with dense shrapnel cover to thirty-five metres radius with random spike effects that extend as far as fifty metres.

Flight Lieutenant Spook Geraty used the first Mini-golf in action on 18 June. Two days later Cocky Benecke used four in a single action that accounted for seven CTs dead. Thereafter Mini-golfs were used frequently.

After one of the earliest Mini-golf deliveries into a bush area from which ground fire had come, but no CTs had been seen, troops located four dead terrorists and one who, though only slightly wounded by shrapnel, was found lying unconscious. He revived when an RAR soldier shook his shoulder. This particular CT was at the edge of the Mini-golf’s effective range and had been well screened by trees standing between him and the point of detonation. When questioned by SB, the CT said he did not hear the bomb explode but was “suddenly overcome by a need to sleep”. The ground troops who were more than 100 metres from the Mini-golf explosion reported being totally taken aback by the huge blast and shock wave.

This shock effect paid off in many actions according to KCar pilot ASRs that reported two advantages accruing from Mini-golfs. One was that surviving CTs tended to remain where they were making it easier for ground forces to account for them and, more importantly, firing at aircraft either ceased or was substantially reduced.

Mini-golf was particularly useful against large enemy forces pursuing troops engaged on over border operations. In the first such action, east of the border village of Nyamapanda, Cocky Benecke (Hornet 20) was the pilot.

Cocky’s ASR reads:

The Mini-golfs had been in use for some time when, for safety reasons, it was decided to substitute the electrical seeker arrangement for a steel proboscis and accept a small reduction in killing range. Warrant Officer Bill Brown was one armourer who dreaded having to attend to early-model UXB Mini-golfs in the field. With live batteries and an electrical cable enmeshed in bush it was safest to simply rig up a delay charges to destroy such bombs.

ZANLA’s changing tactics

ROBERT MUGABE IN TYPICAL COMMUNIST style, declared 1978 to be ‘The Year of the People’. A few female CTs were with some groups entering the country and in the Op Repulse area there were clear indications that FRELIMO had become ever more involved.

Rhodesia saw a major change in government on 3 March 1978 following an internal political settlement signed by Ian Smith, Bishop Abel Muzorewa, Senator Chief Chirau and Reverend Ndabaningi Sithole (previously the leader of ZANU and ZANLA). The name of the country changed to Zimbabwe-Rhodesia and, incredibly, the white people calmly accepted this first move towards black majority government. For one year an interim government ran the country with ministerial portfolios shared by experienced white ministers and black co-ministers who were learning the ropes. This would end when blacks and whites cast their votes for the first majority government. Mugabe and Nkomo wanted no part in this arrangement and branded the black participants as sellouts—so the war raged on.

Now, as in many preceding months, ZANLA relied on mujibas (LTTs and local youth spies) to provide them with early warning on RSF positions and the movement of Fireforces. Mujibas, often posing as common cattle herdsmen, drove cattle through likely RSF positions. Their abnormal practice of driving cattle over high features clearly identified active mujibas who we counted as CTs. When caught in the act they were either captured or killed.

In most ZANLA affected areas high features abounded. Mujibas used these to establish an early-warning system in which whistled messages were passed from one high point to the next along the line of Fireforce and troop movements. At one stage mujibas started denuding high features of all natural vegetation in an attempt to deny RSF hidden OPs (observation points) but the practice was dropped when they realised they needed the same cover for themselves.

ZANLA’s mujiba-warning system covered most of their operating areas other than half of the Op Repulse area where an extensive region of flat ground extended southwards from the Lundi River. Though crude, the warning system was very effective. A Fireforce flying at ninety knots could not hope to outpace the whistled warnings that passed ahead of their flight line at the speed of sound.

So troublesome was this warning system that selected troops moved into high points at night to kill mujibas when they took up positions at dawn. Visual recce from the air could not assist in these counter-mujiba operations because it was impossible to differentiate between RSF Op and mujiba path patterns. In spite of the mujibas, ZANLA continued to suffer greatly at the hands of the Selous Scouts pseudo teams who had learned to keep abreast of CT identification procedures. They knew what could and could not be eaten to fool the locals into believing they were bona fide ZANLA. Because of this the CTs were forced to find other ways of exposing Selous Scouts groups.

Individual CT leaders adopted a variety of short-duration identification methods. Sometimes this was to the detriment of genuine CT groups passing through or operating in adjacent areas. But, for a while, the Selous Scouts experienced setbacks. I recall one Scouts group being blown because the locals noticed that their weapons did not have barely visible scarlet thread tied to weapons’ trigger guards. Another group was blown because its members had not changed boot or shoelaces to the black ones the CTs had adopted. Switching cigarette brands was another of many ploys.

Norah Seear

DURING MARCH 1978 I WAS tasked to recce Chiweshe, Madziwa, Masembura, Msana and Chinamora Tribal Trust Lands extending in reverse order northward from Salisbury. I was pleased to do this as a break from my project work and more so because I was not encumbered with recce instruction. Whatever I located was passed on to JOC Hurricane at Bindura, but I only called for Fireforce once. On that occasion I had Norah Seear with me.

Norah was an excellent photo-interpreter with JSPIS (Joint Services Photographic Interpretation Services) based at New Sarum under command of Flight Lieutenant Bill Buckle. Two of Bill’s male interpreters as well as Norah (a grandmother) and three younger women interpreters had on occasions sought my opinion on terrorist bases they were analysing.

Visiting JSPIS was always enjoyable and I found Norah’s enthusiasm and open personality most appealing. She was especially keen to learn about visual recce. Not satisfied with all that I had told her, she asked if she could attend one of the many lectures I was called upon to give to Army personnel undertaking Air Orientation courses at New Sarum. Regrettably Norah pitched up at a particular presentation when I happened to be feeling really ill with a bad dose of flu. When the faces of the Army guys, who had been on a drinking spree in town the previous evening, showed that they were more interested in personal survival than in African toilet-path systems, I abbreviated my talk and left the room early, thereby disappointing Norah Seear. I still experience embarrassment when I recall the occasion.

Norah had obviously not been put off by my failure to teach her something new because she asked if she could accompany me on a recce of Chinamora Tribal Trust Land. I said I was more than happy to have her along for the ride but warned that the flight would be long and cold with no facility to relieve her bladder in flight. She assured me this was no problem because she had “the constitution of a camel”.

Nora’s presence in the aircraft was refreshing because of her never-ending questions which only dried up when I called Fireforce onto a group of CTs I found in a small base camp. The action that followed with RAR troops under command of Major André Dennison was very messy. (More about this officer shortly.) Nevertheless the Fireforce action had come at the end of our normal recce period so our airborne time was greatly extended by the action. At New Sarum, Norah showed she was not much of a ‘long range’ camel by making a headlong rush for the nearest loo.

RAR Fireforces

WHEN FIREFORCES FIRST CAME INTO being they were manned exclusively by RLI. Throughout the war they were undoubtedly the finest of all Fireforce soldiers. Following the spread of the war and an increase in helicopter availability, RAR and Territorial Army units also became involved, but seldom did they perform as aggressively and efficiently as RLI. Certain of the Territorial Army units did well and the same could be said of RAR companies when commanded by the right officers and, even more so, when controlled by K-Car pilots.

From my own observations and the opinions expressed by other pilots, it was clear that the black soldiers of the RAR were good fighters who were too often severely encumbered by language difficulties between the white airborne commander and men on the ground. Most RAR soldiers spoke one or other of the Shona dialects and there were a few N’debele soldiers too.

Whereas they all had a fair understanding of English, the official language in battle, it was seldom sufficient for them to absorb fast-spoken instructions coming to them over crackling radios with the near-continuous presence of noisy helicopters during high-stress actions. It was noticeable that some white officers gained a great deal more from their RAR troops than others. These were ones who spoke calmly, clearly, slowly and used the barest minimum of simple words. Above all they remained cool-headed and never lost their temper nor showed any sign of irritation if asked to repeat instructions.

Officers who failed to get the best out of their black troops exhibited common characteristics. They were short–tempered and pompous. In the air they would instruct their men too quickly in sentences containing too many words. When these instructions were misinterpreted or there were requests for a repeat of instructions, the man on the ground received a verbal blast with accusations of ignorance and incompetence.

There was an occasion when one K-Car pilot was so annoyed by an RAR officer’s inability to handle his men correctly that he surreptitiously muted the Army commander’s radio link and took over control of the RAR men on the ground. Most K-Car pilots were every bit as good as the best of our airborne Army commanders, usually having seen more Fireforce actions. In this case the pilot directed the callsigns in ‘Chilapalapa’ that these particular RAR soldiers understood well.

The Shona word Chilapalapa is the name of a language developed on the gold mines of South Africa where it is known as ‘Fanagalo’. This simple language continues to facilitate easy communication between mine management and thousands of mine workers coming from many African countries and language groups. Most Chilapalapa words come from Zulu, cautionary and swear words from Afrikaans and, simple words like left and right from English.

Anyway, the K-Car pilot directed the willing troops with ease and led them to success. Initially the Army commander frantically checked his radio leads for a fault he had no hope of finding. He gave this up when the air-gunner leaned across and shouted to let him know that the pilot and soldiers were managing fine and that the “headset failure” could only be rectified when they returned to base.

One RAR officer I got to know quite well at Mtoko was André Dennison, commanding ‘A’ Company of 1 RAR. He was an ex-British Army officer who performed with considerable courage in many ground actions with a weapon in his hands. As a combat leader on the ground he was first-class but his troops performed abysmally under his airborne control, even though they had done really well under previous airborne commanders. The reasons for this were very plain to many pilots, but André took no notice of the advice offered to solve his soldiers’ “outright stupidity and inability to understand plain English”. It was through officers like André that the RAR came to be regarded by many as second-rate soldiers. Those of us who knew how well they could perform thought otherwise.

André had a phobia about the Selous Scouts in general and Lieutenant-Colonel Ron Reid-Daly in particular. This led to a very unnecessary incident when, following two failed callouts by Scouts pseudo callsigns, André flatly refused to respond to a third one on the same day. Whilst all hell was breaking loose between Ron Reid-Daly, COMOPS and André Dennison, I arranged for Territorial soldiers operating fairly close to the Scouts callout position to prepare for immediate uplift for a Fireforce action. For this I had first sought COMOPS approval from Harold Griffiths, who was then working under Norman Walsh.

Away went the empty helicopters from Mtoko with their accompanying Lynx to pick up the TF troops who, though inexperienced in the Fireforce role, thoroughly enjoyed a small but successful action in the Msana Tribal Trust Land. André’s frustrated anger switched from the Selous Scout CO to me for having “taken away my aircraft without my permission!” Such was the nature of the man as Fireforce commander! But with gun in hand and feet on the ground, André was a great soldier and leader of troops.

Bold actions—007 ideas

THE SAS CONTINUED WITH THEIR successful operations using minimum manpower for maximum results. During May 1978 eight SAS men made a parachute descent with canoes and plenty of explosives to take out a ZANLA barrack block in the FRELIMO stronghold town of Tete. In a typical SAS-styled night action involving moments of threat and doubts, they paddled heavily laden canoes down the Zambezi River right up to their target set high on the bank of the river. There they set the charges that blew the barracks and its occupants to hell and back. Upon their return to Rhodesia the participants described the operation and spoke of their passage under the huge Tete bridge spanning the great river. They said how awesome the illuminated bridge appeared as they passed silently below FRELIMO guards and vehicles on the bridge deck high above them. The business of blowing bridges had become quite fashionable so it was not surprising that these men were considering how the Tete bridge might be dropped, if the need arose.

I was fascinated by the problems involved and went away with the subject turning over in my mind. As the SAS had said, dropping the bridge could be done easily enough if it was not located at a garrison town containing hundreds of well-armed troops. The question that exercised my mind was how the Air Force might deal with the problem, if given the opportunity. Looking forward in time and considering friendly Malawi’s future interests in the bridge, there seemed no way Rhodesia would ever consider destroying such a vital road link. Nevertheless I could not get the subject out of my mind.

Tete bridge is a huge suspension bridge with two high support towers on each bank of the river. Over these towers two suspension cables pass from their deep anchor points on the south side to those on the north. These two enormously thick and powerful cables support the entire road platform by means of many vertical drop cables.

No available bomb or rocket would have any meaningful effect on this type of structure because assured destruction could only come from cutting through one or both of the suspension cables. The question was how this might be done. So far as I was concerned great accuracy would be required, so low delivery at high speed would be essential against this target sited at the edge of a highly defended town. It also meant that our fastest aircraft, Hunters, could make only one pass.

The system I conceived may sound too James Bondish but I have no doubt the project team could have developed it given time to perfect the explosive shearing device I refer to as a ‘cable cutter’.

None of our team had any experience in high-energy shaped charges and explosive shearing devices so I went to Cambridge-trained ex-British Royal Engineers Captain Charlie Small with whom I had worked on the odd inter-force project. One of these projects had been to design a bridge and culvert destruction device to be mounted on a self-propelled vehicle that could be lifted by helicopter and placed on a safe section of the Maputo to Malvernia railway line. Once on the rails the vehicle was to be controlled remotely from the air and run to the target, bridge or culvert and usually defended, where it would be brought to a halt at the selected position for command detonation.

Charlie, who was then working with Selous Scouts, was experienced in the destruction of bridges as recently proven during Op Virile. His approach to dropping a bridge was to calculate the amount of explosive required for the job then double the quantity. Because of this, the rail vehicle became too heavy for carriage by one or two helicopters. Charlie’s explosives alone required two Alouettes, another to carry the vehicle and a fourth one to transport engineers to assemble the unit on site. Though the feasibility work and designs were completed, the device was never put to the test.

Charlie’s reaction to my plans to drop the Tete bridge was “it can be done”. But he needed the cutting charge, 100kg minimum, to be in direct contact with the suspension cable and oriented so that the explosive ‘cutting’ wave faced the cable.

Arising from Charlie Small’s advice, my concept involved two Hunters each carrying two 150kg bomb-shaped cable cutters under slung, and partially imbedded, within and under, 500kg inert bombs. One Hunter would approach on a line just inside the bridge towers at one end of the bridge whilst another did the same at the other end of the bridge approaching from the opposite direction. Both pilots would have to aim to pass thirty meters above the suspension cables at the relatively slow speed of 300 knots

To give them safe passage, another pair of Hunters would precede them by a few seconds flying at maximum speed directly over Tete town. This pair would then pull up into a steep, noisy, full-powered climbing turn away from the river to draw attention from the slower-flying Hunters approaching each other at low level along the river.

At half a kilometre from target the cable cutters would be released. As they fell away they would draw out a heavy twenty-metre length of super-strong stranded steel cable from a drum mounted inside the inert bomb. Just before the cable was fully withdrawn, as measured by the number of rotations of the drum, the 500kg inert bomb would release automatically from the aircraft.

The requirement was for the inert bomb to pass above the suspension cable and the cable cutter below it. Both units would have passed the suspension cable before their linking cable came taught against the bridge cable. The heavier bomb would continue on and the shock load on the cable (the reason for the slow attack speed) would be slightly damped by the inert bomb’s flight line being drawn down. The cable cutter would pitch steeply upwards as it was brought to a rapid halt before changing direction back towards the suspension cable. As each cable-cutting device slammed up against the suspension cable it would fire its cutting charge.

If all four cable cutters succeeded in cutting right through their respective section of suspension cable that would be fine but it only needed one severed cable to drop the bridge. However, if neither cable was completely severed, the damage done would render the bridge unsafe, thereby necessitating many months for disassembly of the entire bridge before replacement of the custom-designed suspension cables was possible.

There was another unusual project explored but never put to the test. This was to have been a Hunter-borne, non-explosive, man-killing device. It all started with an article I read in some scientists’ magazine reporting the potential of low-frequency noise to subdue riotous crowds or to actually kill large numbers of people if applied energy levels were high enough. The article told of a French scientist and his four assistants who were all killed in the wee hours of the morning when they conducted their first-ever test on an oversized, low frequency, ‘whistle’. Disaster struck when they passed large volume airflow from a compressed air tank through the sound generator. Not only were buildings for some distance around subjected to severe damage, the autopsies carried out on all five victims revealed that their vital organs had been pulverised by the high energy, four cycles per second, sound force.

I was intrigued by this information and looked into the possibility of towing a suitable ‘whistle’ through the air behind a Hunter flying at high speed. Calculations, or should I say guesstimations, showed that the required amplitude of sound waves oscillating at four cycles per second could be achieved without danger to the pilot or anyone on the ground. Only in a sustained steep turn at the right speed would ‘killer sound waves’ focus for the few lethal seconds needed to cover a fair sized area within the orbit.

Had we had the time and found a suitable way of testing such a device, we might have produced an ideal low-cost weapon for a large variety of CT targets. I am left wondering if the concept was realistic, or not.

Katoog

DURING MY VISITS TO CSIR in Pretoria I became very interested in an aeronautical division project known as Katoog, which is Afrikaans for ‘cat’s eye’. This project looked to the future when a helicopter gunship pilot would be able to aim his power articulated guns by simply placing an illuminated spot in his helmet visor onto a target.

When I had checked on the project, back in February 1978, no noticeable progress had been made since my previous visit many weeks earlier. The South Africans were obviously in no great hurry as they knew that helicopter gunships and their rotating ‘chin turrets’, for which Katoog was intended, lay a long way off in the future.

For my part I could see immediate use for the Katoog system in a side-firing mode, so I asked if it would be possible to let me take the equipment, as it was, for a short-duration trial in Rhodesian operational conditions. The CSIR engineers were especially keen because this would give them early technical feedback; so a signal was sent up to Air HQ in which I made a proposal to borrow the equipment. Authority was given for me to pursue the matter with the South Africans.

Because Katoog was a top-secret project there was much to-and-fro communicating in Pretoria before the request was accepted in principle. However, the South Africans insisted on finishing an incomplete mounting for four .303 Browning machine-guns and conducting ground-firing trials before passing the system over. The gun mounting incorporated hydraulic servos to traverse and pitch the guns in direct response to Katoog’s sighting sensor.

There was no hope of finalising a pilot helmet sight before the gun system itself was ready. So I requested that CSIR produce a simple mounting post on which to fix their angle-sensing device with a collimator-reflector gunsight affixed between two handgrips incorporating a firing button. The idea was that the guns would be operated by one of our helicopter gunners sitting in a sideways-facing seat set central to the front doorway of an Alouette. On his left side, the multiple-gun platform would be wholly accessible to him with gun barrels projecting through the rear doorframe.

By early May the system was working well and was transported with the senior project engineer to Salisbury on six weeks’ loan. As soon as the whole unit had been fitted to an Alouette, firing trials were conducted with the CSIR project engineer making suitable adjustments to allow for direct aiming at targets with the guns offset for normal attack speed. Squadron Leader Ted Lunt and Corporal Thompson conducted these tests.

Ted Lunt was the Squadron Commander of 8 Squadron, which had only just been created, ostensibly to lessen the burden on No 7 Squadron. Initially 8 Squadron operated Alouette IIIs, though none of us knew then that the true purpose of creating this new unit was to prepare for the on-take of larger helicopters.

We moved to FAF 4 at Mtoko and commenced work right away. The Alouette with the Katoog system was referred to as ‘K-Car Alpha’ to distinguish it from the 20mm K-Car gunships. The plan was for Ted to position at a safe place that was nearest to the area I was searching and wait for my call. In this way, and acting entirely on his own, he could respond very quickly.

We struck luck immediately when I called him to a large CT camp near an abandoned farmstead southeast of Mtoko. As Ted arrived, over thirty CTs broke cover and started running and splitting into small groups. I called for Fireforce as Corporal Thompson’s first long burst downed six CTs. Five stayed where they fell.

Ted’s specific instruction was to remain at 1,200 feet above ground so that the Katoog aiming system and the four-gun mount could be compared directly with the established 20mm cannon performance. Whereas the first burst had been made from the correct height I could see that Ted was progressively dropping height to get at small groups now scattered and snivelling from cover to cover. So far as I could see CTs were dropping every time the guns fired but some rose again, staggering noticeably.

K-Car Alpha had run out of ammunition before the Fireforce took over. Most of the seventeen CT’s accounted for had either been killed by Katoog or were so severely wounded that they were unable to escape the attention of the troops. Katoog had proven itself on its first live outing.

Ted was directed onto a number of unoccupied places before I put him onto a group of fourteen terrorists. Corporal Thompson knocked hell out of these guys who attempted to fire back at the helicopter until they realised they came short every time they stopped running in zigzag fashion. By the end of the action Ted had dropped right down to about 300 feet to get at three remaining survivors who made the mistake of going into cover under a small clump of bushes. They did not stand a chance. The whole group lay dead before troops arrived to sweep the area.

At this stage I brought in Hamie Dax, our successful PRAW recce pilot, to help cover more ground in an endeavour to locate a particular CT gang that was giving Centenary farmers a bad time. Squadron Leader Ted Lunt with Corporal Thompson responded to a call from Hamie.

This is what Ted wrote in his ASR of 23 June 78:

I was asked to insert comments for the field commander and wrote this:

On the night of 23 June 1978, probably whilst Ted Lunt was writing the ASR quoted above, a gang of CTs committed dreadful murder of seventeen innocent white missionaries and four of their children. This took place at the Elim Mission in the Vumba. The mission had previously been the Eagle Preparatory School that my brother Tony and I attended as founder pupils thirty years earlier. Rhodesians of all races were horror-struck by this senseless action, yet the rest of the world simply laughed it off, as they would do again when Air Rhodesia Viscount airliners were shot down.

The Katoog system continued to be used with considerable success, either acting alone or used as a component of Fireforce. Apart from the success of the sighting system, the density of fire from four guns using .303-ball ammunition proved many times more efficient, and a great deal cheaper, than single-barrel, slow-firing cannons with explosive 20mm shells.

Katoog was returned to South Africa at the conclusion of the six-week trial period. Six long months then passed before 7 Squadron received two systems, now referred to as either Dalmatian Project or Alpha Fit, for permanent use. Some of the 7 Squadron crews loved the weapon. However, most preferred the 20mm cannon because of the irritatingly high stoppage rate of .303 Browning guns.

Philippa Berlyn

PHILIPPA BERLYN (MARRIED NAME—CHRISTIE) was a Salisbury journalist who spoke fluent Shona. She was short, stocky and very plain in dress and looks but when it came to writing she was brilliant. Philippa had a very special interest in the wellbeing of black women and was particularly troubled by the hard times they were facing in the rural areas. However, since CTs disallowed newspapers in the areas they worked, Philippa could not get her messages and advice through to them. Because of this, she decided that she had to go to the women, and to hell with the risks that went with doing so.

I cannot remember the date she came to me at FAF 5, asking to be dropped off at a village some thirty kilometres northeast of Mtoko. She had already arranged to meet with a large number of local women and had been given clearance, in writing from Minister P.K. van der Byl, to make the visit. However the Army was unable to assist immediately and the Air Force had not been notified. Nevertheless, I sorted things out with Air HQ and clearance was given to deliver her at sunset for her all-night indaba, and collect her at sunrise.

The location to which Philippa was going happened to be a particularly hot spot, so the G-Car in which she flew was accompanied by a K-Car to cover the landing. The G-Car pilot who delivered Philippa was very relieved when he saw the large crowd of expectant women rushing to meet her as she climbed out, skirt flying, to meet them. But, like all of us, the pilot could not help being deeply concerned for the safety of this very brave white woman.

When the war ended, I learned from ZANLA that the local ZANLA commander had been fully aware of Philippa’s impending visit and had instructed CTs not to fire at the helicopter but to keep a low profile. After dark and unbeknown to Philippa, ten CTs crept forward and remaining in the shadows surrounded the meeting place to listen to every word she spoke. So impressed were they by her fluency in Shona and the advice she gave the women that her departure by helicopter at sunrise went unchallenged.

Philippa’s husband, law Professor Dick Christie, was not only good-looking, he differed a great deal from his softly spoken and very well-mannered wife. Whenever distanced from his professional environment he always let his hair down. Dick was an Air Force Volunteer Reserve officer who flew second ‘dickey’ in Dakotas. His favourite place for call-up was FAF 7, Buffalo Range. Dick Christie always celebrated his last night at FAF 7 by mixing a strange alcoholic concoction that included mashed bananas. There were never many takers for Dick’s ‘free drink’ that went by some catchy name. In consequence, he drank more than he bargained for and got very happy, noisy and quite sloshed. It was in this condition that he became involved with others in ‘roof-rattling’ sleeping helicopter crews. Late drinkers often annoyed tired crew who had gone to bed at a sensible hour by throwing stones onto the noisy tin roofs of their billets. Dick joined in but, instead of throwing small sized stones, he heaved a brick that failed to make the height of the roof. Instead, it went through a window and broke the leg of a sleeping helicopter pilot. Next morning, a very sombre Dick was particularly embarrassed as he walked up the sloping deck of the Dakota past the unfortunate pilot who was lying strapped to a casevac stretcher. To add to his embarrassment, the pilot asked Dick if he was in a fit enough state to fly the Dakota.

Final tracker dogs trial

I HAD JUST BEEN AWARDED THE Defence Cross for Distinguished Service (DCD) for my project work when I was approached to try out dogs in a genuine track-down of CTs.

I learned that Flight Sergeant Terry Rubenstein, under direction from Wing Commander Rex Taylor, had resuscitated the radio tracker dog project. Rex and members of the Air Force Dog Section at New Sarum had been very annoyed by the Police Dog Training Centre’s inability, or disinterest, in progressing the system to full operational status, so they trained two African handlers and their Alsatians for the task. Wing Commander Peter Cooke had tried them unsuccessfully in April 1978. The problems Peter encountered then were resolved but it was considered that I was the best man to make a final test.

I could not expect to be given an Alouette III for this task so Ted Lunt converted me onto an Alouette II because there were some spare at New Sarum. I had not flown this aircraft before even though most of the earlier helicopter pilots had undergone their initial helicopter training on this machine.

The Alouette II was not as pleasant to fly as its big sister, the Alouette III, but for me it was so much nicer than any fixed-wing aircraft. With two handlers and two dogs on board there was hardly room to move. Again I chose to base at Mtoko where I arranged ten ‘volunteers’ to walk a trail in the late evening. Next morning the dogs followed the trail without difficulty. Having satisfied myself that the dogs and handlers appeared to know their business it was just a matter of waiting for someone to come up with CT tracks to follow.

When a radio call came through reporting a night attack on a farm with fresh CT tracks confirmed, I called for the handlers and their dogs. Almost immediately I noticed how nervous the handlers were. As we lifted off one or both of them made their nervousness known by releasing wind which filled the cabin with an unwelcome stench.

The moment the dogs were put on the trail it became obvious to me that they were not going to run. After a number of failed attempts I landed back at the farm and questioned the two trackers. Neither one had ever seen action and both had heard horrifying stories of soldiers and airmen being killed in helicopters. I decided then that the dogs must have sensed their handlers’ fear and that this was the reason they had reacted badly. I needed to prove this.

With JOC Hurricane’s approval I arranged for a group of black soldiers to lay a trail from the same farm at the same time as the CTs had attacked it. Next morning I put down on their trail at the same time we had landed on the CT trail the day before. The dog handlers knew there would be no shooting at the end of the run and the dogs reacted normally, easily running down the soldiers ten kilometres from the start point.

The handlers’ fear of potential CT fire and the adverse effect this had on their dogs had been proven. However, to give dog handlers airborne combat experience was an impossibility that threw the whole radio tracker dog concept out of the window. My own very biased opinion is that had I spent another year on helicopters back in 1969 this situation would have been foreseen and many successes might have resulted. The obvious solution was to train Air Force dogs to be handled by combat-experienced helicopter technicians or soldiers.

More enemy reversals

ZIPRA HAD BEEN PRETTY INEFFECTIVE inside the country because sporadic RSF actions had disallowed them from establishing themselves in the N’debele tribal areas as effectively as their ZANLA opponents had done in the east. So troubled were ZAPU’s leaders about their waning image that they even resorted to claiming one of ZANLA’s notable successes. This was an attack against the large fuel storage depot in Salisbury’s industrial sites.

During the night of 11 December 1978, a small ZANLA sabotage unit fired RPG 7 rockets into three fuel-storage tanks, setting them alight. Such surprise was achieved that the CTs were gone before the Police protection detachment realised what had happened. The resulting fires radiated such intense heat that the tanks partially collapsed, spilling fuel in a chain reaction that destroyed twenty-two of the twenty-eight tanks in the complex. This attack dealt Rhodesia a near-crippling blow and it took three long months before the country’s precious fuel reserves were restored.

In the meantime, ZIPRA agents and operatives in Rhodesia, obviously following ZANLA’s lead, had been very busy recruiting in Matabeleland causing JOC Tangent great concern for the sudden high outflow of youngsters to Botswana. Most were being taken out at gunpoint! Nevertheless ZIPRA was still considered to be in a state of disarray following earlier SAS activities in Zambia. So, for the time being, ZANLA remained our primary concern.

During the latter quarter of 1977, the SAS was moved into the Gaza Province in an attempt to subdue that region in the manner they had tamed Tete. Unfortunately SAS was too small a unit to handle both provinces at the same time and the replacement troops sent to Tete did not operate in the same effective manner as SAS, simply because they were not trained for such specialised work. Consequently FRELIMO and ZANLA in Tete Province were let off the hook. Instead of being the hunted, they became the hunters again, which allowing CTs to pour into the Op Hurricane areas virtually unchecked.

In Gaza the SAS had good successes but they also had a very hard time. The FRELIMO Government had given greatest priority to assisting ZANLA with its main thrust into the southeast of Rhodesia. Because the Selous Scouts, SAS and air operations into Gaza had not been sustained on an ongoing basis, FRELIMO had been given the breathing space needed to build up substantial force levels to maintain the infiltration line for ZANLA.

Just before SAS was temporarily withdrawn from Gaza for the Op Dingo attacks on Chimoio and Tembue, a larger than normal SAS team dropped into Gaza Province on 1st November 1977. In an endeavour to mislead FRELIMO about the purpose of the para-Dakota’s presence, the Dakota crew descended to low level to hand-launch Alpha bombs through the open cargo door along the general line of the railway. A very bad moment was experience when the Dakota inadvertently passed directly over heavily defended but blacked-out Mapai. The pilot bunted the aircraft in his endeavour to escape enemy 12,7mm, 14,5mm and 23mm fire that was ripping through his aircraft. In so doing, loose Alpha bombs and bodies floated in the air until forcibly dumped onto the floor when the aircraft levelled-off sharply too close to the ground for comfort.

Two days later, on 3 November, the SAS team brought a large convoy of FRELIMO vehicles to a halt when the lead vehicle struck the land mine SAS had laid as an initiator to their planned ambush. However, a series of explosions from ordnance on this vehicle made it impossible for the rest of the column to continue forward. Fearing air attack, the convoy backtracked a short distance and moved off the road.

The SAS had inadvertently hooked a much larger fish than the ZANLA convoy they had been expecting. They backed off immediately because the FRELIMO force was much too large and angry to engage. Through Giles Porter, (callsign C4) flying a Lynx with the SAS airborne liaison officer, Captain Bob MacKenzie, Air Force Hunters were called in for a dawn attack to destroy the vehicles, now hidden in the cover of dense trees and out of sight of the SAS men on the ground.

Vic Wightman and Dave Bourhill came in as Red Section. John Annan and Spook Geraty followed later as White Section. The term ‘Bingo’ in Vic Wightman’s ASR means ‘minimum fuel remaining’.

Vic’s ASR reads:

As can be seen from the ASR, the Hunter pilots did not fully realise what damage they had inflicted. Giles Porter and Bob MacKenzie had been extremely lucky to survive the low pass in which unbelievably heavy fire, including flak and missiles, was directed at them; but this brave action had succeeded in finding the convoy. The SAS on the ground said the Lynx passed through the heaviest fire they had ever witnessed, making it all the more amazing that the Lynx suffered no hits.

During the night two days after the attack, a close-in reconnaissance revealed that the SAS had halted a mobile brigade including Russians who were aiming to establish this brigade’s HQ in Mapai. Thirteen brand-new transporters and specialist vehicles had been destroyed along with spares for Russian tanks that were already in position at Mapai

Actions such as this should have been sustained but, with the SAS withdrawal from Gaza for Op Dingo, breathing space was again given to FRELIMO and ZANLA, allowing the rate of incursions into the Op Repulse area to increase. By now FRELIMO, incensed by Rhodesian forces’ actions against them, increased their own numbers entering Rhodesia.

The SAS had expected to return to Gaza immediately following Op Dingo but their expertise was needed in Zambia and Botswana to counter renewed threats from ZIPRA’s attempts to establish an effective front in Matabeleland.

In what was probably the most successful ambush of the war, ZIPRA lost large numbers of men and equipment in an SAS ambush in southern Zambia. After the ambush landmines were laid to take out ZIPRA hierarchy who were sure to visit the scene once they felt it was safe enough to do so. Three days later, in spite of Zambian Army assistance and a very precautionary approach to inspect the devastation, ZIPRA suffered the loss of its military commander, Alfred Nkita Mangena, and three senior men wounded when their vehicle detonated one of the landmines that awaited them. SAS had put ZIPRA on the back foot again, giving the overstretched RSF the respite they needed.

Deaths of du Toit and Nelson

AS STATED EARLIER, FRELIMO AND ZANLA had regained composure and control in the Tete Province following the withdrawal of the SAS. RLI teams were still there when, on 28 July 1978, two G-Cars with a Lynx in support were tasked to uplift callsign 74. This was about thirty kilometres north of the position where Cocky Benecke’s Mini-golf bomb had relieved RLI callsign 75 eight days earlier. However, due to an aircraft un-serviceability problem, the RLI officer responsible for the external operation arrived to give the aircrew a briefing very late in the day. This unavoidable situation was a contributing factor to developments that occurred when it was too late to call for Hunter support.

Just before sunset and about three kilometres short of c/s 74, Francois du Toit was leading Air Lieutenant Nigel Lamb at about twenty feet above the trees when both helicopters came under intense fire from their left side. Francois, flying some 100 metres to the left of Nigel, was seen to flare indicating he was force-landing before disappearing from Nigel’s view behind trees.

Still under heavy fire, Nigel had no alternative but to press on to collect c/s 74 to bring troops back to check on the downed helicopter. As he did this, Nigel briefed Flight Lieutenant Mike Abrams flying the accompanying Lynx. When Nigel looked up for the Lynx he saw that “flak was bursting all around the aircraft.” This was most likely RPG 7 rockets and Strela.

Due to high fuel weight, Nigel could only lift two men from c/s 74. Under supporting fire from the Lynx, he deposited the two soldiers, now called 74A, on the ground about fifty metres from the downed helicopter; but these two men came under intensive fire the moment the helicopter turned around to collect the remaining two members of c/s 74.

The weight of fire coming from a position just fifty metres from the crash site, which was over to 74A’s right, showed the enemy’s strength to be far too great for the two soldiers. Nevertheless they managed to get to within thirty metres of Francois’ aircraft and reported that there was no movement whatsoever from the badly flattened helicopter. By then heavy fire, including RPG 7 rockets, was also being directed at c/s 74A and the Lynx from high ground 200 metres west of the crash site. Fire was returned by c/s 74A, the Lynx and the returning G-Car, but 74A remained pinned down.

Moving behind the cover of a low ridge, Nigel and his technician-gunner Chris Saint, dumped everything possible from their fully laden Alouette preparatory to rescuing c/s 74A. There was no time to dump the helicopter’s refueller or the hot extraction gear. Fighting jangled nerves and uncontrollable shaking of his legs, Nigel flew back to recover the very distressed pair of soldiers. As he went he prayed for a safe LZ, a reliable engine and a very strong gearbox. Under heavy fire Nigel found a suitable LZ and Mike Abrams attacked to draw attention to himself whilst the two soldiers made a bolt for the helicopter. When the two panting men arrived, Nigel ordered them to abandon their packs before making a substantially overweight lift–off for Rhodesia. To have left the four RLI soldiers on the ground for the night was never a question, and it was too late to bring in other soldiers to the crash site.

The next day, with Hunters overhead, the RLI moved in and confirmed what was already known. Flight Lieutenant du Toit and Sergeant Nelson were dead, Francois having been mortally wounded in the initial ground fire. He died in his seat before he could complete the autorotative forced landing he had initiated. Either bullet wounds or the resulting crash killed his technician because both bodies were riddled with bullet holes. Many years after this incident, Nigel told author, Beryl Salt, “I have found it more comfortable to believe that these were inflicted before impact.”

Like so many of our aircrew youngsters then engaged in operations, I hardly knew Sergeant Nelson (whose brother had leaped to his death from the burning helicopter). On the other hand I knew Francois very well; and Beryl had a particularly soft spot for this super young man with his ever-ready smile.

Second Tembue attack

I ONLY LEARNED OF FRANCOIS’ DEATH when I was about to get airborne for another attack on Tembue, again as the Admin Base commander. It was early morning on Sunday 30 July when we set off for the Train to refuel in freezing cold weather before continuing on to Tembue. ZANLA had reestablished Tembue base a relatively short distance away across the main road running from Tete town to Zambia to the east of the original base. This base was nothing more than a number of interconnected camp areas containing small bashas with no major structures such as kitchens, lecture rooms or latrines.

Two two-man Selous Scouts recce teams had been sent in but one was blown almost immediately forcing it to call for hot extraction. However, Schulie and his man remained in position and reported that, whilst CT numbers were way below expectation, there were certainly CTs present at the end of the base that they could see from their hide.

Airstrikes went in on time followed by paratroopers, helicopter-borne troops and K-Cars. The DC7 staggered over the Admin Base and put down the protection party, ammunition and fuel exactly where I wanted them dropped. This admin base lay in a vlei three kilometres to the west of the main road with Tembue 2, commencing some six kilometres away and stretching eastward for another six kilometres to Schulie’s hiding place. Earlier admin area experience made the matters of parachute- and drum-handling run smoothly despite the discomfort given by the presence of many itchy buffalo-bean bushes. On this occasion I had a folding chair and a table on which to place my radio and keep simple records under a huge mahobahoba tree.

It was clear from the outset that very few CTs were being accounted for. Selous Scouts blamed the Air Force for dropping the paratroopers in the wrong place, forcing them to walk too great a distance to the CT base areas in which the embers of many night fires still glowed red. Unfortunately Selous Scouts had changed character a great deal by this stage in the war and were quick to point fingers when they themselves may have been at fault. Anyway, I have no doubt that Flight Lieutenant Dave Thorne, who led the four paratrooper Dakotas, placed the troops precisely where they were supposed to land.

At midday FRELIMO came to the party and commenced firing at helicopters crossing over the main road between the CT camps and the Admin Base. Explosions from the hills close behind us had me really worried until the protection troops said these were no more than echoes from the exploding RPG 7 and Strela warheads being fired at passing aircraft. Nevertheless there was now some concern for the safety of the helicopters and personnel in the Admin Base area, so SAS sticks were flown in from unproductive sectors of the CT bases to bolster the existing Admin Base protection party.

During the afternoon one helicopter coming in to land passed directly over another whose rotor blades were still slowing down after engine shutdown. This forbidden action resulted in the helicopter on the ground sustaining damage when its still turning blades flapped down into the tail cone. Moments later, a sound resembling heavy-calibre machine-gun fire in the centre of the Admin Base made everyone dive for cover before it was realised that another helicopter’s rotor wash had drawn in a parachute that was being flayed by its fast-moving blades. Fortunately the only damage incurred was the destruction of the small plastic reservoirs on top of the rotor head; but these contained vital hydraulic fluid for the rotors damper systems and the aircraft could not be flown.

By late afternoon we had two machines awaiting repairs in the field and were almost out of fuel. Happily the FRELIMO force had moved off, probably having expended all its ammunition, but more fuel had to be flown in and it became obvious that everyone would have to remain where they were for the night. When the DC7 returned, its first drop was momentarily delayed beyond my ‘green light’ call resulting in a fuel pallet crashing through the mahobahoba tree under which I was standing and damaged my little table. What horrified everyone each time the DC7 passed 200 feet above us was the bright flaming of its ringed exhaust system that could not possibly be missed by Strela in the fast-fading light.

None of the aircrew had any type of bedding for the cold night ahead, nor did we have anything to eat. However concern for a possible FRELIMO attack put hunger in second place as we gathered up parachutes, rolled into them and lay quietly listening to every sound of the night awaiting to be overtaken by sleep. Around us the helicopter vision screens reflected starlight so brightly that they appeared like beacons to an unseen enemy. By this time however, there were fair numbers of SAS troops ranged around the Admin Base, which was very comforting. Lying on my back in moderate comfort and gazing at the bright stars so tightly packed in cold clear conditions, I couldn’t help wondering why in the world war was so endemic to mankind when there was so much space for all to live in peace.

I was still pondering on this when I felt a snake move across my shoulder, over my chest, under the parachute and down to my feet. There it turned direction coming back between my legs heading for my chin. I dared not move nor even whisper a word to those around me. I felt the snake’s head bump my chin then turn towards my feet again, this time outside the parachute. Then I felt a fluttering on my chest as the rest of the snake’s body kept flowing upwards. When the tail was out, I gently lowered my chin to see what the creature was doing, only to find many little field mice milling around on my chest and stomach. These little blighters were responsible for my uncomfortable moments, having made a snake-like, head-to-tail journey through the warmth of my makeshift bed.

I rose at dawn in light, freezing fog to brew a cup of coffee. A little distance away I saw an old black man sitting by a small fire. He had been found close to the Admin Base the previous day and had been apprehended by the Army protection force to ensure that he did not go off to report our position to FRELIMO. The old fellow had been well fed with food he probably had not seen for years and seemed very pleased to be among us. Now however, in the cold dawn wearing only a pair of tattered shorts, he was very cold and his body shook in violent spasms that wracked his scrawny frame. I removed my anorak and took off the thick grey home-knitted jersey under it to give to the old man. Judging by the expression on his old face, nothing in the world could have brought him more joy.

The whole helicopter force lifted off early for the return flight to Mount Darwin, leaving behind the protection party, the old black man and two unserviceable helicopters with their crews. There were also stay-behind forces in the Tembue 2 camp complex.

It was only when we reached Mount Darwin that it dawned on me that the jersey I had given the old man had my nametag sewn inside its collar. Harold Griffiths, released from COMOPS for this operation, was returning to the Admin Base next day so I requested that he find the old man and remove the nametag from his jersey as a precaution against possible retribution by FRELIMO. When I saw Griff again, he handed me the nametag saying the old man had been sad to see everyone go.

I left Mount Darwin for New Sarum during the evening of our return from Tembue 2. To see me off was the New Sarum Station Warrant Officer, Barney Barnes, who was enjoying a spell at FAF 4. He was full of bounce and just as noisy as ever when he closed my Cessna’s door and bid me farewell. So it came as a real shock to be told, only forty minutes later, that Barney Barnes had died of a heart attack as he entered the FAF 4 pub, having just seen me off.

Viscount disaster

SADLY, AIR RHODESIA HAD DONE nothing to protect their Viscount airliners against Strela, despite Air Force warnings and their knowledge of two failed attempts by ZIPRA to shoot down South African Airways aircraft on scheduled flights to Victoria Falls Airport. The price for this omission was paid on 3 September 1978 when a routine flight from Kariba to Salisbury met with a tragedy that had the people of Rhodesia reeling.

Captain John Hood and First Officer Garth Beaumont took off from Kariba Airport on Air Rhodesia Flight 825 climbing the Viscount out westward over the lake in accordance with standing instruction. This was a precautionary procedure to guard against possible CT ground fire that might pose a threat on the easterly climb-out over land. They turned southeastward for Salisbury and were still in the climb over Urungwe Tribal Trust Lands when a Strela missile exploded between the two starboard engines. Both engines failed and an intense fire broke out.

Having no option but to get the aircraft on the ground as soon as possible, John Hood put out a ‘May Day’ call but had insufficient time to give the Kariba Air Traffic Controller his exact location. Warning of an impending forced-landing was given to the passengers who adopted the head-on-knees posture to limit injury after touch-down. Following a relatively gentle landing on the best available open field, the aircraft rolled for some distance before pitching into an unseen donga that killed both pilots, destroyed the Viscount and ruptured fuel tanks that set the distorted cabin ablaze.

Forty passengers and crew died in the crash but eighteen miraculously clambered out to safety, most with injuries. Five of the passengers helped settle the injured before going in search of water and help. They were some distance away by the time a group of ZIPRA CTs arrived at the crash site. Initially the CTs told the survivors not to be afraid, but then opened fire killing ten of then. Three managed to make their escape under fire.

I flew one of a number of aircraft hurriedly gathered to search for the Viscount that was known to be down but whose fate was not yet known. Fortunately a Dakota, taking part in the search and assigned to the most likely area, was carrying SAS paratroopers fully prepared for deployment. It so happened that it was this Dakota crew who located the stricken airliner and the SAS parachuted onto site immediately. The horror of what they discovered and reported reverberated around the world.

Interviewed on BBC television that same evening, Joshua Nkomo responded with a big smile and a hateful belly laugh as he acknowledged that ZIPRA was responsible for the deliberate downing of the civilian aircraft. The Western world heard this quite clearly but chose to ignore the horror because Rhodesia continued to be a hindrance to the West’s obvious desire to turn the country over to communists. So what if innocent civilians had been deliberately murdered!

Rhodesians had become accustomed to the attitude of so-called friendly governments; though none of us ever understood why they were so determined to destroy what Ian Smith termed ‘responsible government’. They aimed only at appeasing black governments that had wrecked their once prosperous countries. This we had become used to, but the West’s total disinterest in the Viscount disaster was sickening.

Dean of Salisbury’s Anglican Cathedral, John de Costa, conducted a highly emotional memorial service for the victims of the Viscount disaster during which he expressed the feelings of all anti-communist Rhodesians in a sermon that highlighted the ‘deafening silence’ from our very kith and kin in the West. “Nobody who holds sacred the dignity of human life can be anything but sickened at the events attending the Viscount… this bestiality stinks in the nostrils of Heaven. But are we deafened with the voice of protest from nations who call themselves civilised? We are not! Like men in the story of the good Samaritan, they pass by on the other side.”

Ian Smith had continued in his attempts to involve Joshua Nkomo and his ZAPU party in the new order of government. Following the Viscount disaster however, anger within his party and the Rhodesian people as a whole made further attempts impossible. Everyone wanted Nkomo’s blood together with those CTs responsible for mindless murder. One week after the Viscount disaster, a grim-faced Ian Smith addressed the nation and introduced martial law in selected areas. He also gave clear warning to neighbouring territories that they must bear the consequences of any defensive strikes we might direct at CT bases within their territories. This was no idle threat because over-border strikes into Mozambique and Zambia commenced one week later.

Before Air Rhodesia had completed preliminary work to provide Viscounts with anti-Strela shielding, a second Viscount was shot down on 12 February 1979, again by ZIPRA. For some reason the scheduled departure of this Viscount, again from Kariba to Salisbury, was running a little late. Inexplicably, instead of climbing out over the lake, the skipper decided to take off in the opposite direction. Turning for Salisbury in its climb over land, the aircraft was critically damaged by a Strela missile that sent it plunging into heavy bush in very rough terrain. No one survived this time.

Subsequent to the second disaster, Air Rhodesia succeeded in shrouding Viscount exhaust pipes and painting the aircraft with the appropriate low-radiation paint. The Air Force’s modified Strela test-bed was unable to detect Viscounts flying above 2,000 feet. If any other Strela missiles were fired at Viscounts, they passed unnoticed.

Return to Chimoio

TEN MONTHS HAD PASSED SINCE Chimoio was destroyed, leaving ZANLA in a state of chaos until re-established in their New Chimoio complex east of the original site. SB had put together intelligence which, when linked to photo recce, revealed what was believed to be the whole of the target area.

Four white abductees were being held prisoner by ZANLA in this new base when Operation Snoopy was launched on 20 September 1978, again by SAS, RLI and Air Force. Photos of the base showed it to be more widespread than the original Chimoio base but an attack plan similar to Op Dingo was put into effect. Heavy haze conditions, covering Mozambique from ground level all the way up to 30,000 feet, had set in earlier than usual, but the jet pilots managed to find their targets for the opening strikes. When the troops and K-Cars moved in, it became obvious that the camps they were dealing with contained nothing like as many CTs as had been expected.

Then a Lynx pilot, conducting reconnaissance in depth, attracted very heavy fire from positions over thirty kilometres south of the attended area. Only then was it realised that ZANLA camps were spread within an elliptically shaped area exceeding 200 square kilometres in extent. Immediately the whole complex became known as the ‘Chimoio Circle’.

Troops were moved down from the northern sector of Chimoio Circle to the south where they came into contact with ZANLA in many different positions, resulting in some serious but unco-ordinated firefights. Jet and K-Car strikes criss-crossed over a multitude of targets that were surrounded by extensive trench systems incorporating many AA guns. Fighting and camp destruction operations continued into the second day before FRELIMO decided to enter the area with tanks, but apart from making a lot of noise and bumbling around in the dark, they were of no value to ZANLA who, though taking many casualties, were offering stiffer resistance than had been experienced on any previous occasion.

The haze problem worsened progressively due to huge amounts of smoke generated by hundreds of burning structures. So dense was the haze that an SAS-controlled Hunter strike, directed against the highest point of an adjacent granite hill, ended up on the same hill as the SAS callsign. Fortunately the Golf bombs detonated on the highest point over 100 metres from the callsign, but even this was too close and shrapnel mortally wounded Trooper Donnelly. The pilot, Vic Wightman, was very distressed by this unfortunate incident but, considering the amount of ordnance being put down in response to calls from the ground, it says much for the efficiency of pilots that no other soldiers were hurt in the awful conditions that prevailed. The error Vic Wightman made arose from the fact that the whaleback granite feature he was asked to attack looked much the same as any other of a number of such features within the Chimoio Circle, and they were all aligned in the same direction. Had the haze not so severely restricted visibility of the ground to a small patch directly below the aircraft, cross-referencing on river-lines would have eliminated any chance of this pilot error. The SAS quickly put the Air Force at ease by letting it be known that they fully understood the jet pilots’ problems and accepted the attendant dangers.

For the Hunters and Canberras there were other dangers. Strela missiles were being launched and two of these found their mark. One Canberra crew was aware of a substantial bump on their aircraft as they were clearing target for New Sarum. Back at base they discovered this had been from a missile that detonated at the very rear of the jet pipe and sent a shower of shrapnel into the fuselage, rupturing one fuel tank. Dave Bourhill was in a climbing turn for re-strike when a missile narrowly missed his Hunter’s jet pipe but exploded under the starboard mainplane leaving a huge hole in it. Back on the ground the damaged Hunter drew attention away from the damaged Canberra parked on the next concrete hard standing.

There was considerable disappointment in not finding the four white abductees the troops had hoped to rescue. However, amongst piles and piles of captured documents, SB came upon records dated three weeks earlier in which the four captured whites were listed as:

Military ribbons and medals belonging to Thomas Wigglesworth were recovered from the personal belongings of a CT in Nehanda camp; the location known to have been where the abductees had been held. Fortunately, sufficient evidence was obtained for Red Cross International to bring about the release of these men from the Tembue area where they had been taken.

Here I divert for a moment. The Rhodesian’s lack of knowledge concerning its enemy, particularly ZANLA, has already been touched upon, and I have told of my absolute fear and certainty of being killed if downed in Mozambique. The release of these men made me wonder if I might have been wrong in believing the press and some political statements that conveyed to Rhodesians the awful hardships the abducted men must be facing. Upon their release all these men said that they had been well treated, particularly by Josiah Tongogara. Since first news of their release came from press interviews in the Polana Hotel in Maputo, obviously attended by ZANU and FRELIMO officials, no notice was taken of their good reports. But then the Rhodesian Foreign Minister, P.K. van der Byl, introduced Maartens and Black at a press conference in Salisbury. This backfired on him to some extent because he was fully expecting to hear from these men what had been fed to the public. Instead Maartens, who was under no pressure to say the ‘right thing’, repeated what he had said in Maputo.

When relating to the return of his medals in a book he wrote about his time with ZANLA, Thomas Wigglesworth records that “truth is certainly stranger than fiction…”

Returning to Op Snoopy. On Day Three of this operation all forces returned to Rhodesia. The Air Force was quite unable to sustain a longer stay and sufficient death, destruction and disruption had been imposed on ZANLA, for the time being.

World reaction to our external operations was nothing like as damaging to Rhodesia as had been expected, and for the most part FRELIMO had not become involved. The benefits of going external, so long delayed, were proving to be much more cost-effective and infinitely more disruptive to both ZANLA and ZIPRA than internal operations. For the moment ZANLA was on the back foot, so attention switched back to ZIPRA.

Operation Gatling

BEFORE OCTOBER 1978, OPERATIONS INSIDE Zambia had not involved Air Force in anything more than a supporting role. The SAS had conducted superbly executed disruptive operations that succeeded in forcing ZIPRA to move away from the Zambezi River and ever deeper into Zambia. In the meanwhile Selous Scouts-controlled spies and SB agents had been very active inside Zambia gaining intelligence on ZIPRA because this was more difficult to gain than from ZANLA through scores of captured CTs. A clearer picture had emerged and Canberras were able to photograph defined positions for photo-interpreters to study.

With specific targets confirmed, and considering the experience gained in joint-force operations in Mozambique, it was time for the Air Force to become directly involved against ZIPRA in Zambia. It was payback time for the first Viscount disaster, which had occurred seven weeks earlier.

On 19 October, the Air Force engaged in three separate operations in Zambia, the first of which did not include any troops. This was because the target, previously white-owned Westlands Farm, was too close to the Zambian capital Lusaka. Lying just sixteen kilometres to the northeast of the city centre, this farm had become ZIPRA’s military headquarters and training base. ZIPRA called it Freedom Camp (FC Camp). Being so close to Lusaka, ZIPRA considered the location to be immune to attack. However, with senior ZIPRA staff there and 4,000-odd CTs undergoing training in a relatively compact area, FC Camp made an obvious and very inviting target for airstrikes.

One thing that had to be taken into account was the possibility of Zambian Air Force fighters interfering with Rhodesian aircraft. There were also the matters of British Rapier missiles known to be somewhere in Zambia and civilian air traffic movements in and out of Lusaka Airport. To deal with the former issue, it was decided that the lead Canberra would forewarn Lusaka Airport by passing a message through the duty Air Traffic Controller to the Station Commander at the Zambian Air Force base, Mumbwa. This was to let him know that Hunters were over his base with orders to shoot down any Zambian fighters that attempted to take off.

Timings were crucial because Canberras, Hunters and K-Cars allocated to the FC raid had to turn around after their strikes and link into a combined operation with the SAS against ZIPRA’s Mkushi Camp. The third target, known to us as CGT 2, was to be handled by Vampires, Lynx, four K-cars, G-Cars and RLI paratroopers. CGT 2 was one of at least four ZIPRA bases established in rough country south of the Great East Road that ran eastward from Lusaka to Malawi. Not knowing ZIPRA names for these bases, they were named Communist Guerrilla Training (CGT) bases with identification numerals 1–4.

Diverting for a moment back to my JPS days. During the late 1960s South African, Portuguese and Rhodesian teams had been established for the Alcora Planning groups to consider mutual support in both regular and counter-insurgency warfare. Whereas I had been a member of the mapping committee, I was in the picture on most of the other committees’ work. One of these dealt specifically with plans for strategic airfields. These plans involved the upgrading of existing air bases and the building of new ones suitably sited in South West Africa, Rhodesia, Mozambique and South Africa.

Each air base was to incorporate underground hangars and immediate-readiness fighter pens with intricate taxiways leading to two primary runways. The design allowed two whole squadrons of sixteen fighters to scramble simultaneously. However, the costs involved were so great that it was necessary to build the bases in stages. The first stage was to build one half of a total base with the end-plan taxiway serving as the first operational runway.

In Rhodesia, Thornhill and New Sarum needed no work as they both exceeded the needs of Phase 1, but three other sites had been selected. These were Wankie National Park, Fylde Farm near Hartley and Buffalo Range at Chiredzi. Buffalo Range already existed as an active airfield, needing only limited work to get it to Phase 1 status. Fylde had become operational before Op Gatling was mounted on 19 October and served as the base for Hunters and Vampires during this operation. At this stage work at Wankie was still in progress.

Green Formation of four Canberras left New Sarum a little after four K-Cars had taken off from Mana Pools on the Zambezi River. A total of six Hunters were involved. Two with Sidewinder air-to-air missiles headed directly for the Zambian Air Force base at Mumbwa and the other four followed a prescribed route to FC camp.

Squadron Leader Chris Dixon with Mike Ronnie as his navigator led Green Formation. Ted Brent with Jim Russell, Greg Todd with Doug Pasea, and Glen Pretorius with Paddy Morgan followed. The Canberras, flying low under Zambian radar, were loaded with a total of 1,200 Alpha bombs. The four Hunters of Blue Formation, led by Squadron Leader Vic Wightman with wingmen John Blythe-Wood, Ginger Baldwin and Tony Oakley, were also approaching target at low level and were some way behind the slower Canberra formation when they crossed the Zambezi River. Their speed would place them ahead for first strikes.

White Section, the Hunters orbiting Mumbwa, were flown by Rick Culpan and Alf Wild, who listened in to the attacking force transmissions whilst hoping the MiG 19 fighters would take to the air. In this they were to be disappointed because nothing stirred. Orbiting at height near the Zambezi River in the Command Dakota were General Peter Walls, Group Captain Norman Walsh and their communications staff who would remain airborne throughout the day to cover all three operations.

The Hunters struck dead on 08:30 taking out the FC headquarters buildings. The huge Golf bombs’ plumes were not needed as markers to give Chris Dixon’s bomb-aimer final confirmation of his line-up because Mike Ronnie could see the target during the formation’s acceleration to attack-speed.

Chris’s radio system was linked to a tape recorder in the cockpit for possible post-strike public relations purposes. On playback of the tape, we all heard the deep breathing of the crew building up during run to target and their comments about the precision of Hunter strikes. This was followed by excited shouting between Chris and Mike when they saw hundreds of CTs running in the treed and open areas through which the Canberra formation’s bomb loads would run. On completion of their strike, Chris and Mike continued to communicate excitedly as, in the background, the calm voices of the Hunter pilots could be heard as they called, “turning in live” for their restrikes.

When the Hunters cleared, the voice of Pink Formation leader, Squadron Leader Graham Cronshaw, showed that the K-Cars had arrived over FC camp. They were lucky that none of the anti-aircraft guns were manned as they set about attacking scattered survivors.

Chris Dixon had been instructed to contact Lusaka Tower before his strike, but something had gone amiss with frequency selection. He only made this call to a remarkably calm African controller whilst the K-Cars were active over FC camp. This was Chris’s prepared message:

In response to a query from Lusaka Tower, Chris suggested that the departure of an aircraft be withheld for a short while. The controller was happy to oblige and even asked a Kenyan airliner, incoming from Nairobi, to hold off.

Chris had flown out of range when Dolphin 3, Norman Walsh in the Command Dakota, established contact with Lusaka Tower. Immediately after this the irritated Kenyan Airways pilot asked Lusaka “Who has priority here anyway?” to which the Zambian controller calmly replied, “The Rhodesians, I guess!” The Kenyan did not have long to wait. Norman Walsh returned Zambia’s air space to the thankful controller once the K-Cars were well clear of the target.

Shortly after the air action, Lusaka’s hospital became inundated with the inflow of wounded and dying ZIPRA personnel. All forms of transport kept bringing in more and more casualties way into the night. Zambian patients were incensed for being kicked out of their sick beds when all floor and bed space was taken up by the ZIPRA flood. Unbeknown to the Zambian medical staff, a Selous Scouts officer was sitting calmly in the waiting room, claiming to be there for an anti-cholera injection. He watched the never-ending stream of serious casualties in satisfied amazement having, himself, been responsible for locating FC camp. According to a ZAPU delegation report to a Pan African Congress held at Arusha, Tanzania in May 1979, 226 CTs were killed and 629 were wounded, most seriously.

The K-Cars returned to Mana Pools and the jets to their bases. The gunners, preparing their helicopters for the attack on Mkushi Camp, were full of enthusiasm having just returned from FC Camp. For the technicians at New Sarum and Fylde there was no time to find out how the Zambian raid had gone; and anyway the aircrew were too tied up to share their war stories. In spite of this the armourers, engine fitters, airframe fitters, electricians, radio men and refuellers went about their business with no less enthusiasm than their colleagues way up on the Zambezi River.

In most respects, the attack on Mkushi was conducted in the manner of the first attack on Chimoio with jet-strikes leading the action at 11:40. In this case six Dakotas dropped 120 SAS paratroopers in a semi-circle around the western and northern flanks of Mkushi base with K-Cars patrolling the Mkushi River, which formed the eastern and southern boundaries of the target. Forty-four SAS were landed by eleven G-Cars behind the cover of a small feature in the camp’s southeastern corner. Eight kilometres southeast of target lay the Admin Base into which an RLI protection force was para-dropped with fuel and ammunition.

It was only when the ground fighting was underway, that the SAS realised Mkushi camp was occupied by women CTs with only a few male instructors. Our intelligence people had not known this. The women looked just like men in their camouflage uniforms and they bore their weapons with efficiency. Although some attempted to hide and take advantage of grass fires initiated by the air strikes and heavy firing, most fought back. The SAS could not help but be impressed by female aggression and fighting ability that kept the soldiers busy till late afternoon.

With the RLI protection force at the Admin Base was one unusual character. He was Sergeant-Major Standish who, as a grey-haired Territorial Army soldier on call-up with SAS, had managed to wangle his way onto Op Gatling. Stan Standish, who had been a paratrooper at Arnheim, claimed that only the Dakotas that had brought the force to Mkushi had seen longer service than he had. He thoroughly enjoyed his parachute descent into the Admin Base and gained the admiration of the aircrews who saw him set a great example to the RLI youngsters in matters of collecting parachutes and rolling fuel drums.

There had been some concern for the safety of helicopters parked on the Admin Base dambo (Zambian word for a small open grass area) because they presented a perfect target for any Zambian MiG 17 or MiG 19 pilot who might choose to attack them. As it happened, one MiG 19 did appear over the Admin Base but either the pilot did not see the exposed choppers or turned a blind eye and disappeared into the blue.

Mkushi was by far the best-organised base the troops had seen with many more facilities than in any ZANLA base. A red hammer and sickle emblazoned in red on one of the buildings emphasised ZIPRA’s Russian orientation. When the fighting was over, the troops left everything just as it was for members of the press to view the next day.

The SAS referred to reporters as ‘vultures’ because they only turned up when the killing was over. There were certainly plenty of dead bodies, piles of captured matériel, stacks of ZIPRA documents and many Soviet manuals for the vultures to photograph and inspect. The SAS also had five ZIPRA prisoners for them to interview. Once the press had done their work and were on their way back to Rhodesia late on Day 2, all equipment and buildings were destroyed.

On Day 3 the SAS were in the process of recovering to Rhodesia when a lookout warned of the approach of a large armed force sweeping towards the main group. Hurriedly the SAS got into position and waited for the force to come to close range. They then opened fire on Zambian Army, Zambian Police and ZIPRA in a short sharp action that left forty-seven dead. Fortunately they captured a Zambian Army man and, incredibly, ZIPRA’s senior Logistics Officer. His name was Mountain Gutu and his importance will become apparent. These two prisoners, together with the other five captives, were all flown back to Salisbury.

Well to the south of Mkushi, air attacks on CGT 2 were launched by four Vampires firing 60-pound squash-head rockets and 20mm cannons and four Lynx dropped Mini-golf bombs and fired 37mm boosted Sneb rockets. The RLI followed up in double Fireforce strength. I cannot recall any details of the ground action other than it occurred in difficult bush conditions resulting in the death of about sixty CTs. But this target turned out to be the toughest nut of the ZIPRA targets because it contained many very effective large-calibre anti-aircraft guns and missiles. Cocky Benecke took hits immediately, which forced him to withdraw with a holed fuel tank.

Nigel Lamb wrote, “huge easily visible shells arched lazily upward, then seemed to accelerate past us”. Even climbing to 2,500 feet above target did not help so the helicopters beat a sensible retreat; but not before Mark Dawson’s K-Car received an explosive hit which knocked out the instruments and wounded Mark in the leg.

The K-Cars split into two pairs running low level either side of a high ridge when Chaz Goatley was heard to shout to Mark Dawson that his tail rotor was slowing down. Mark knew his tail rotor drive-shaft had been severed before his machine started to spin in the opposite direction to the main rotor blades and, arching downwards, crashed through high trees which turned the aircraft upside-down. Fortunately there was no fire. The three K-Cars grouped over the downed machine before Nigel Lamb put down as close to the crash site as possible. Nigel stopped his rotors but left the engine running and hurried to the crashed aircraft with his technician-gunner Finch Bellringer. Immediately they found Mark’s techniciangunner Roelf Oelofse who, having been thrown from the helicopter, was alive but completely incapacitated with a spinal injury. Mark was still in his seat, inverted, unconscious and blue in the face because his flak jacket was pressed tightly into his neck. Nigel quickly released Mark from his seat and, with his technician’s help, moved him to his own helicopter. He wound up his rotors and climbed to join Ian Peacock’s K-Car to give top cover whilst Chas Goatley and his technician, Mike Smith, landed to recover Roelf. Roelf recovered quickly but for six agonising weeks Mark Dawson lay unconscious in St Giles Nursing Home. After recovery it became clear that brain damage would disallow the frustrated young pilot from ever flying again.

Three operations in one day had ZIPRA reeling and the Zambian Government in a dither. ZIPRA’s total casualties, according to figures given to the Pan African Congress in Tanzania, were 396 killed, 719 wounded and 192 missing. This had cost Rhodesia the loss of an SAS soldier, Lance-Corporal Jeff Collett, fatally wounded at Mkushi, and one helicopter that had to be blown up where it had crashed.

The Rhodesian Broadcasting Corporation gave news of the FC Camp raid as its lead report on the 8 o’clock evening news, but little was said about the other two operations in Zambia. Squadron Leader Alan Cockle, the Air Force PRO, arranged for the communiqué to include Chris Dixon’s ‘Green Leader’ taped message to Lusaka Tower together with the controller’s responses. Fresh in memory was ZIPRA’s downing of the first Air Rhodesia Viscount sixteen days earlier, so news of the action against Nkomo’s forces came as a much-needed tonic for waning morale, and ‘Green Leader’ became a national hero though few knew that he was Squadron Leader Chris Dixon.

Mulungushi and Mboroma

MOUNTAIN GUTU, THE LOGISTICS OFFICER from Mkushi, turned out to be a vital man because he personally knew all the top rankers in ZAPU and ZIPRA as well as the location of ZIPRA’s headquarters units, their camps and logistics sites. He was also able to confirm that most of ZIPRA’s activities were geared to preparing for conventional warfare, though he could not give the reason for this. To us the Russian influence on ZIPRA was obvious.

A location that immediately drew special attention was ZIPRA’s prison camp at Mboroma deep inside Zambia. Apart from ZIPRA dissidents and alleged spies, Gutu claimed that a number of Security Force personnel who had been abducted in Rhodesia were also held there. He willingly offered evidence and provided details of the ZIPRA personalities in charge of the prison camp. He not only gave the names and places in Rhodesia from which they originated but, in the typically African way, described their physical peculiarities. Whereas they were probably pretty average people, Gutu’s descriptions made them appear to be a bunch of oddballs. Here are extracts of his written descriptions:

The Selous Scouts were given the task of moving on Mboroma with the prime objective of bringing all the prisoners back to Rhodesia. A close-in recce of the camp, conducted from high ground right next to its southern boundary, confirmed the presence of prisoners and established routines within the camp. Ron Reid-Daly wanted to conduct a pure ground action to simultaneously ensure the safety of prisoners and to allow the right moment to be selected before launching the operation. It would have been a simple enough matter to parachute the entire force into the remote countryside for an approach on foot to the target to meet Ron’s objectives, but COMOPS disallowed this.

Instead, Scouts paratroopers enveloped the prison camp following a limited Hunter airstrike, but it resulted in the timing of the action being wrong—just as Ron had feared. Most of the prisoners were away on various foraging tasks, well away from target. In consequence only a quarter of the prisoners, thirty-odd, were flown back to Rhodesia a couple of days before Christmas 1978; so the Dakota effort allocated to uplifting troops and prisoners from a nearby Zambian airfield way exceeded demand.

The press had a royal time learning about the horrors of ZIPRA torture, starvation and general maltreatment of their unfortunate prisoners. Arising from this rescue mission, Selous Scouts, always maligned by the world press, were hailed as heroes and spirits were raised on that hot sunny Christmas Day.

Mountain Gutu had also confirmed that a main ZIPRA base for conventional forces existed in the old Federal Cadets Training Centre (later the Zambian National Service Training Centre) on the west bank of the Mulungushi Dam situated north of Lusaka. Selous Scout recce specialists, Schulie Schulenburg and his African partner, made a detailed closein reconnaissance of the base to confirm what Gutu had said. This was done during the lead-up to the Mboroma rescue operation.

By the time he was uplifted back to Rhodesia, Schulie had set a record by being in hostile territory for two weeks without resupply. He reported that there were over two hundred men in camp who did not seem to have any concerns following the attacks on FC Camp, Mkushi and CGT 2 because they were so well dug in. Because of this, it was decided not to pursue the joint-force approach again, as we were likely to suffer unacceptably high casualties. Instead a Canberra formation attack was launched at the same moment that the Hunters were striking Mboroma on 22 December 1978. Results were pleasing.

Moatize hangar

EVER SINCE BUSH COVER STARTED receding in July the success rate of Fireforce actions had been mounting. It was in one of these in late November 1978 that a CT was captured by RLI troopies of the Mtoko Fireforce. Those who nabbed him did not know that ZANLA’s High Command had made a big error in sending their high-ranking Secretary for the Tete Province on a staff visit to the Takawira Sector in Rhodesia.

SB was delighted to have this man alive considering that most of the CTs in the contact had been killed. Included in the wealth of information gleaned from him, SB learned of huge ZANLA weapons and explosives holdings in an aircraft hangar at the Moatize Airfield near Tete town. The information was passed to the SAS who came to the conclusion this was a job best suited to Air Force.

Five Hunters piloted by Squadron Leader Vic Wightman, Ginger Baldwin, Jim Stagman, Tony Oakley and Dave Bourhill were tasked to take this and other targets out in a single sortie. Though ZANLA’s primary weapons holdings constituted the main target, a long ZANLA barrack building in Tete town was assigned for attention by Golf bombs after which vehicles and AA gun sites were to be destroyed.

On 8 December, four Golf bombs flattened the barrack block completely. Firing at the hangar had to be conducted from long range to avoid the chaos that tons of explosives detonating spontaneously would spew into the path of an attacking jet. It was the second pilot to fire at this target who had the satisfaction of seeing it mushroom in a truly massive explosion that necessitated a maximum ‘G’ turn to avoid flying through the cone of rising debris. When they had taken out assigned targets and had run out of ammunition, the aircraft climbed to 30,000. There the pilots looked back with satisfaction at the vertical pillar of smoke and dust rising more than 10,000 feet above Moatize Airfield where the hangar’s shattered girders and cladding lay widely scattered.

Following this, the SAS moved in to blow up the Mecito bridge to ensure that ZANLA would not easily replenish their lost stocks or continue to move men to Tete by rail. This they timed to occur as a train passed over it on 15 December. Only five days later, with the railway line now out of action, ZANLA attempted to move ammunition up to Tete along their alternate route which was the main road running northwards from Chimoio along the low ground fairly close to the Rhodesian border. News of this impending movement was intercepted on the FRELIMO radio network.

An SAS ambush party struck the lead vehicles, forcing following ones to high-tail back the way they had come. Two pairs of Hunters flown by Vic Wightman, Jim Stagman, Ginger Baldwin and Brian Gordon destroyed the vehicles found hidden in an orchard by Cocky Benecke who had called for and directed their strikes. Following these, Cocky conducted a post-strike recce and confirmed that six vehicles, including a petrol bowser, had been destroyed, thus accounting for the entire resupply column.