Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

Ceasefire

A TOTAL CEASEFIRE WAS TO come into immediate effect when all parties to the Lancaster House agreement signed the enacting document. As soon as this happened, the warring forces would cease hostilities and all BSA policemen were to revert to normal policing duties. The RSF were to return to barracks whilst ZIPRA and ZANLA forces were to move into sixteen (later increased to seventeen) assigned Assembly Points (APs) inside Rhodesia. The APs were to be under the control and protection of a Commonwealth Monitoring Force (CMF). Nothing was said of the Pfumo re Vanhu auxiliaries though, ultimately, they also remained in their bases.

In addition to his main duties, the Commanding General of CMF was to head a Ceasefire Committee. This committee of eight, comprising two officers each from the British Army, the RSF, ZIPRA and ZANLA, was to facilitate inter-force co-operation and deal with any ceasefire violations that might occur.

When Lieutenant-General Walls returned to COMOPS from London, he called me to his office to tell me that, when the time came, I was to be his personal representative on the Ceasefire Committee. He said, “I refuse to sit with those bloody Brits and communists or give them any sense of equal rank with myself or any of the service commanders.” Because I held the rank group captain (Army equivalent colonel) he decided to lend weight of rank to RSF representation by recalling Major-General Bert Barnard from retirement, but only to attend committee meetings. All executive functions were to be handled by me. My lack of faith in Bert Barnard caused me some concern but, in the event, we got on fine.

In addition to Ceasefire Committee work, it would be my responsibility to act as the liaison officer between ZIPRA, ZANLA and COMOPS. This meant I had to establish a close personal relationship with the top commanders with a view to providing General Walls feedback on all relevant matters. In addition, I was to do whatever I could to ensure that the senior men were adequately cared for and give them whatever assistance I considered reasonable. No funds or other guidelines were given.

It was such an anticlimax returning to routine operations, though my time was taken up to some extent in preparing for the early arrival of CMF military contingents. From early December, RAF C130 transporters arrived daily at Salisbury Airport and New Sarum ferrying in tons of equipment and Commonwealth soldiers from UK, Australia, New Zealand, Kenya and Fiji. Puma helicopters and large trucks came in by USAF C5 (Galaxy) heavy transporters.

On 12 December 1979, the British Governor and his wife, Lord and Lady Soames, arrived to strains of ‘God Save the Queen’. This all seemed so unreal to us who were once such ardent royalists. Rhodesians did not leap to attention as in times before UDI but simply looked on in stunned silence. The long years of sanctions were over, but it was impossible to fully comprehend that the country was now effectively in British Government hands, for the first time in history.

After the Governor’s arrival came two senior ZANLA commanders, Rex Nhongo (deputy commander) and Josiah Tungamirai (chief political commissar) who landed at Salisbury Airport to rapturous applause from thousands of black folk who had been forcibly ‘bussed in’ to welcome them. Later, at the same airport, the arrival of Joshua Nkomo with ZIPRA’s commanders, Lookout Masuku and Dumiso Dabengwa turned out to be a low-key affair.

I first met the CMF Commander, Major-General John Acland, at a cocktail party given by him to introduce his staff officers to General Walls, his staff officers and their wives. Being a purely military affair with no political overtones, it was a surprisingly easy-going occasion. One of the officers we met was married to a lady whose name was to become well known. He was Lieutenant-Colonel Parker-Bowles.

Following the signing of the Lancaster House Agreement in London by Muzorewa, Mugabe, Nkomo and Lord Carrington, the ceasefire came into effect at midnight on 23 December. The next morning, the first of the ZANLA and ZIPRA men trickled into the Assembly Points that had been made ready by CMF teams during the preceding two weeks.

Even before this I had been in daily contact with ZIPRA and ZANLA commanders and their staffs who were billeted in the Audio-Visual Centre of the University of Rhodesia. From day one I found it easy to communicate with ZIPRA’s Lookout Masuku and Dumiso Dabengwa. Both smiled easily and acted in a friendly manner. Their ZIPRA staff members were smart, efficient and courteous. Being the commander of ZIPRA, Masuku dressed in camouflage uniform and wore a Russian officer’s peak cap with no badge or emblem on its red band. Dabengwa wore smart-casual civilian dress.

ZANLA was very different. It took ages before Rex Nhongo and Josiah Tungamirai opened up to any degree, possibly because they suffered major daily hangovers from heavy drinking. From the moment of our first meeting, Rex pressurised me to arrange for the return of his Toyota Land Cruiser taken by Selous Scouts at New Chimoio. The uniformed ZANLA commanders and men were surly and slovenly. Visits to ZANLA at the Audio-Visual Centre were initially made uncomfortable by particularly mean-looking individuals who delighted in cocking their AK-47 rifles as I passed. Once he got to know me better and having been promised the return of his Land Cruiser, Rex Nhongo put an end to this nonsense.

On Christmas Day we received news that ZANLA’s top commander, Josiah Tongogara, had been killed in a vehicle accident in Mozambique. He was due to arrive in Rhodesia a few days later, having completed his briefing of all ZANLA forces still in Mozambique. At the time I was unaffected by this news because I thought Tongogara would be no easier to deal with than Nhongo and Tungamirai. I now know I was wrong to think that way.

Rex Nhongo and Josiah Tungamirai seemed unmoved by the loss of their commander whereas ZIPRA’s hierarchy was visibly shaken and depressed by the news of Tongogara’s death. Masuku told me angrily that this had been no accident—it was nothing more than a deliberate assassination of a powerful military leader by radical members of ZANU’s political wing. Explanation for this was to come later but some time passed before a highly qualified mortician from Doves Morgan Funeral Services in Salisbury was sent to Maputo to view Tongogara’s body. Having done this, Ken Stokes concluded that Tongogara had died as the result of a vehicle accident and that no foul play was involved. You will see shortly why ZIPRA agreed with the vehicle accident aspect, but not with the ‘no foul play’ conclusion.

Meetings of the Ceasefire Committee were held every Monday and Thursday in a small natty conference room in an outbuilding in the lovely gardens of Government House. General Acland sat at the head of the long table with Brigadier Gurdon at the other end. General Barnard and I were on one side of the table with General Barnard closest to General Acland. ZIPRA and ZANLA sat opposite us. ZANLA’s Rex Nhongo sat closest to General Acland with Tungamirai next to him. Then came Lookout Masuku with Dabengwa sitting nearest to Brigadier Gurdon.

To begin with no staff accompanied General Barnard and me, whereas ZIPRA and ZANLA always had six or more seated and standing behind them. Later we had one intelligence officer and a very good-looking female secretary, Miss Gardener, sitting behind us to record proceedings.

General John Acland conferred the title ‘general’ on each of the ‘guerrilla’ commanders in an obvious endeavour to give them equal status with himself and General Bert Barnard. In these circumstances I was the most junior man on the committee yet, almost from the start, I became aware of the fact that both ZIPRA and ZANLA looked me in the eye when making any contentious statement or responding to any query concerning cease-fire violations. I found this distinctly uncomfortable as any question from, say, General Acland, would be answered directly at me. Explanation for this took some time in coming.

Most ceasefire infringements were levelled against ZANLA because, from the very beginning, it was obvious that ZANLA had kept the majority of its forces in the field and sent thousands of mujibas to the Assembly Points under control of a handful of genuine ZANLA juniors. ZANLA managed to fool the British who were only interested in the ‘number of ZANLA soldiers’ inside the APs. However, this situation incensed General Walls and the National JOC, the only Zimbabwe- Rhodesian authority able to challenge the Brits to hold to the rules set out in the Lancaster House Agreement.

Most ceasefire violations resulted from election campaigning rifts between ZANLA and the Pfumo re Vanhu auxiliaries of Muzorewa and Sitole, whereas a few were undoubtedly generated by Selous Scouts who had kept some men in the field to monitor the extent of ZANLA violations. In the three months preceding elections, only a handful of problems were raised by or against ZIPRA whose forces within the country had moved into the Assembly Points in accordance with the London agreement. We knew however that over 10,000 ZIPRA men had remained in Zambia.

ZANLA, on the other hand, had withheld some 17,000 men in Mozambique and used the forces in the country to force a Mugabe victory at the polls through viciously applied intimidation on the civilian population together with selective murder. Their line was, “ZANU started the war and only Mugabe can stop it. If Mugabe does not win the elections, the war continues and you will pay for it with your lives”. This was an impelling reason to vote for Mugabe. It was also precisely what we expected from him having known from the start that he would flout any agreement, particularly with Britain.

Although this was in direct contravention of the London agreement, and in spite of overwhelming evidence to prove it, Lord Soames refused to rule against ZANU’s participation in the elections. Unfortunately General Walls, being a military man, seemed out of his depth in dealing with Soames and a Conservative Government that continued to rely on the manipulations and lies engineered by the British Foreign Office.

Meeting after meeting Rex Nhongo and Josiah Tungamirai whispered to each other in their Shona vernacular. Most of the whispered communications held up proceedings whilst they conspired to find a way out of every accusation levelled at ZANLA and to conjure up counter-accusations. Both ZANLA men seemed particularly concerned not to be overheard by ZIPRA who would understand what was being said, but they were quite unconcerned about the four whites who they were quite certain could not understand their language. They were wrong! I understood all I heard.

Some time in late February or early March, I foolishly let loose on Rex Nhongo in his own tongue challenging his past and present whispered lies. This had an electrifying effect on the meeting and obviously tickled the ZIPRA commanders who did nothing to suppress their mirth. Thereafter the whispering ceased, but I continued to be the one to whom every difficult communication was directed.

The general elections were due to take place over three days commencing 27 March. Thereafter the new government would rely on the military to oversee the integration of all armed forces. It was obvious to me that my liaison tasks between our past enemies and COMOPS could not adequately prepare the ground for such a complex process. I conveyed this opinion to General Walls and suggested that a joint headquarters be established to prepare for integration and the calling-in of arms and equipment. It was a relief to learn that he recognised this need and had already earmarked a recently built wing at Army HQ for the purpose, though the move would not take place until the election results were known.

Dinner with ZIPRA

ZIPRA COMMANDERS TOLD ME THEY had no difficulty in opening up to any Rhodesian but they strongly distrusted ZANLA and the Brits. Both Masuku and Dabengwa said they could not talk to me freely at the Audio-Visual Centre or in the grounds of Government House—the only places we met. So, when I suggested they come to my home for dinner, they immediately agreed. The reason I did not offer dinner at a hotel or restaurant was that I had no funds to meet expenses that I could better afford at my own table.

The look on Beryl’s face when I told her that the ZIPRA commanders were coming to dinner was one of utter disbelief. When Beryl relayed the news to our Shona housekeepercook Sarah, her eyes widened in horror whereas our N’debele gardener Obert was delighted. Sarah’s fears were calmed and she was asked to provide a three-course meal, including roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, just as she would do for any of our regular friends.

Accompanying Lookout was his wife Gift and Dumiso came alone. Beryl drank brandy and ginger ale and I had beer even though the three visitors asked for cool drinks. Before and during dinner, Debbie and Paul were with us and the general conversation was very easy-going. The visitors were at pains to greet Sarah and later praise her for an excellent meal.

Throughout the evening it was very noticeable that Gift kept her right hand covered with the shawl she was wearing, even when eating. After dinner the children had gone off to their rooms when Beryl asked Gift how she felt about being with us. Following a moment of hesitation, Lookout suddenly uncovered Gift’s hand and placed his palm directly on hers. “Look we are whole,” he said raising they hands, “Five fingers.” We knew Lookout had a finger missing on his left hand, but had not realised that Gift hid her hand to cover the loss of a thumb. By showing that her missing thumb and his missing finger were obscured by the presence of the other’s hand, Lookout was handling Gift’s hesitation and expressing in this strange way that all was well. He then told us how he and Gift had lost their digits.

When he heard explosions during the SAS attack on Nkomo’s home in Lusaka, Lookout awakened his sleeping wife and two children, got them into his car and rushed off to a safe house with his bodyguard in tow. He made the mistake of routing via Liberation Centre just as the SAS force was withdrawing from it. Having driven through a blinding hail of gunfire, Lookout pressed on to a friend’s house close by and only just reached there when his damaged engine seized. The bodyguard was dead, Gift and both children were severely wounded and Lookout had also been hit. The whole family was flown to Moscow where they recovered to health after many weeks of medical attention. The only externally visible signs of the ordeal were the missing thumb and finger.

A few days after their first meeting, Beryl bumped into Gift who was very distressed because one of her children, who had survived the shooting, had drowned in a private swimming pool in one of Salisbury’s posh suburbs.

Dumiso carried on with the subject of Nkomo’s house attack to tell how Joshua and his wife left home in a hurry for Kaunda’s palace immediately upon receiving a late-night warning of the impending attack. Whilst on the subject, I asked him about the NSO attack. Dumiso confirmed that he and other senior men had kept well clear of the NSO for fear of a Rhodesian attack, which he thought would only take place at night. He had taken up night-time residence with a girlfriend and returned daily to the NSO no later than 06:00. On the day of the attack, he intended to do the same but his girlfriend said she had dreamed of jets attacking at dawn. She insisted he remain at home for at least two hours to relax with a cup of coffee and listen to the radio. Dumiso obliged.

As it happened, Hunters attacked FC camp at dawn, but Dumiso did not know this at the time. The first he knew of any hostile activity was when he heard explosions and firing at NSO. He claimed that this was not the only occasion that dreams had saved him from RSF attacks.

I asked Dumiso and Lookout why, when difficult issues were raised during ceasefire meetings they and the ZANLA commanders always addressed me. The answer was surprising. They said ZIPRA’s reason for doing this was identical to ZANLA’s. Both insisted that the Air Force was superior to the Army. They considered themselves to be on an equal footing with the Army because they used similar equipment and fought on their feet. The Air Force was quite different. In their minds it was this complex high-tech force that had been responsible for the devastation visited upon their own forces. Because of this I was held in highest esteem at the Ceasefire Committee meetings.

Breaking away from the after dinner chat for a moment— Rex Nhongo had much the same to tell me later. But when I challenged him on the issue and said that the RLI had knocked hell out of his forces, he asked, “When did that happen without Air Force direct support and fire power?”

I tried again. “What about the SAS, they knocked the socks off you guys?” “Yes”, he said, “but they are Air Force troops!” I told him he was wrong. “Rex, SAS are Army troops.” His reply was typical. “Comrade Group Captain PB, the war is over so you do not have to lie to me any more. You know, and I know, that the SAS are Air Force troops. They live over the runway from Air Force, they are always with Air Force, they wear wings and blue belts, their badge has a helicopter rotor blade (in the illustration it can be seen that this is actually a dagger) and, just like the Air Force pilots, they only attacked my men, never civilians.”

Returning to the afterdinner chat, Dumiso and Lookout happily answered many questions and I answered theirs. They confirmed ZIPRA’s intention to launch an invasion but this was stymied by the destruction of bridges during Op Dice. Worse still, it removed any hope of joining up with the RSF to bring about the destruction of ZANLA.

They had a lot to say about the efficiency of Rhodesian-made air weapons and told me they had recently learned that I was the prime mover in developing them. Rather than being annoyed by this they were deeply impressed because, like ZANLA, they had previously believed the weapons were South African products.

We then came to the matter of ZANLA’s Josiah Tongogara. I asked them why they had been so distressed about the news of his death. The story went back a long way to a time before Tongogara and his DARE had been imprisoned following the death of ZANLA’s Operations Chief, Herbert Chitepo. From those early days right through to Lancaster House, ZIPRA had found Tongogara to be open and scrupulously honest. He was the only ZANU or ZANLA man in whom they had implicit trust.

During the Lancaster House Conference, Josiah Tongogara made telephonic contact with Lookout and Dumiso from his hotel room. Tongogara said there was urgent need for a serious discussion on proposals he wished to place before them. He offered to meet at any place of ZIPRA’s choice. Dumiso and Lookout said they were happy to meet Josiah at his hotel, in his own room.

On arrival, they found that Tongogara had Josiah Tungamirai with him. They were not at all happy about this knowing that Tungamirai headed ZANLA’s political commissariat, a communist affliction ZIPRA used but which the seniors of ZIPRA could not abide. Anyway Tongogara seemed unperturbed and, working from notes, he got straight down to business.

He started off by expressing the hope that the conference would succeed because he was not prepared to see a continuation of war and the loss of more young lives simply to satisfy greedy politicians. He said he feared that either Mugabe or Nkomo, possibly both, would walk out of the conference. If this occurred, he for one wished to take matters out of political hands but he needed help to achieve this. If ZIPRA agreed with his wish to withdraw all forces from contact, it would then be essential to get to General Peter Walls before he left London and draw him into also taking joint action. Tongogara then spelled out a plan that was unconditionally accepted by the ZIPRA commanders.

For me it was really quite incredible to learn that Josiah Tongogara, the man we took to be our radical archenemy, was a man who really sought peace and stability. Recorded here are the points of agreement he made with ZIPRA—as I recall them.

First was the matter of setting up a military triumvirate of the RSF, ZIPRA and ZANLA, initially in London. Their joint task would be to bring into immediate effect a disconnection of forces. Tongogara had no difficulty in accepting that General Walls should head the triumvirate whose headquarters would be established in Salisbury and separated from existing RSF establishments. ZIPRA and ZANLA would order all their forces to move into military camps on home soil at locations agreed by General Walls.

Under direct control of the military triumvirate, a process of weeding-out and disarming undesirables would be implemented. Those who wished to retire or return to their homes would be free to do so. Thereafter integration of the three forces would commence. Since Tongogara believed this would take at least five years to complete, he expected that many more willing volunteers would leave the ranks during this time.

The military triumvirate would impose on ‘Zimbabwe’ a 100-seat interim government of national unity represented in equal part by the parties currently headed by Muzorewa, Smith, Nkomo and Mugabe. Overseeing this government would be an ‘Executive Governor’ who Tongogara believed should be Sir Humphrey Gibbs because he was the only person who would be acceptable to all parties, including the British and African governments.

Selection of ministers to administer existing civil services was to be established by majority vote for approval by the Governor. Existing RF ministers, if not returned to their positions by popular vote, would be asked to assist new ministers for a period of at least one year.

A general election would be withheld for five years or be undertaken after the military integration process was complete; whichever was the longer period. No direct British interference or participation would be tolerated. If South Africa objected to the new order, African ports would be used to the mutual benefit of central African states. Mandatory sanctions could be expected to fall away automatically and the South African Government’s stranglehold on the country would no longer be an issue. (I was surprised to learn that Tongogara knew of this.)

No active support would be given to any nationalist party or force acting against South Africa. This was to guard against any external aggression from that quarter.

It would be the military triumvirate’s urgent task to settle any fears within the population, black and white, and seek their backing and assistance to make Zimbabwe a prosperous and happy place again. Tourism was to be actively promoted and anyone wishing to leave the country should be allowed to do so without any restrictions or penalties being applied so as not to induce doubt or panic in others.

This was the basic plan that may very well have come into being if Mugabe, having walked out at Lancaster House, had not been forced to return to the talks by President Machel. Mugabe was at Heathrow Airport intending to fly off to New York when Machel told him to get back to the Lancaster House talks immediately or else withdraw his forces from Mozambique.

ZIPRA believed Mugabe relied heavily on Tongogara’s strength and backing and that he would have been in a stronger position had Tongogara returned to the country. However, the radical political members of ZANU saw him as a threat to their own futures, having obviously been given the details of Tongogara’s discussion with ZIPRA by Josiah Tungamirai. Whatever their reasons, they hired a well-known East German assassin to kill Tongogara. This particular assassin specialised in ‘vehicle accident’.

Lookout said that the assassin, whose typically German name I have forgotten, arrived in Maputo ten days before Tongogara’s death. Three days after the fatal vehicle ‘accident’ and immediately prior to his departure for Europe, Enos Nkala met him at Maputo Airport to make payment, in American dollar notes, on behalf of himself, Simon Muzenda, Dr Herbert Ushewokunze, Edgar Tekere, Edison Zvobgo and a couple of others, for services rendered.

Visits to ZANLA Assembly Points

THE SEVENTEEN ASSEMBLY POINTS IN which ZANLA and ZIPRA personnel were being housed and fed by the CMF were given the name of the place upon which each was established. For simplicity’s sake, alphabetic identification was also used. These were A to R. (the letter ‘I’ is not used as a military abbreviation to avoid confusion with the numeral ‘1’)

Sequentially identified around the border areas in a clockwise direction were the APs commencing with the first ZANLA group located at AP Alpha near Hoya in the northeast. AP Romeo at Rukomechi Mission in the north was the last ZIPRA point. All APs were to be visited by the Ceasefire Committee.

Because we would be the first senior RSF officers any of our former enemies would be seeing in the flesh, General Barnard and I were apprehensive, but not to the same extent as the ZIPRA and ZANLA commanders who were about to visit each other’s armed forces.

We set out for AP Alpha early one morning in an RAF Puma helicopter. The crew of this helicopter, like many of their colleagues, had experienced difficulty in map-reading their way around the country with no familiar navigational aids to help them. I told the skipper not to worry as I would be keeping an eye on our position from the rear cabin and he could call me forward if he needed to do so.

I sat with Rex Nhongo and Mugabe’s deputy Simon Muzenda because we would be traversing areas that Rex had walked eight years earlier. I found it both strange and surprisingly pleasing to show Rex such places as his original base on the escarpment next to St Albert’s Mission, the route he had taken from the Musengezi River up the escarpment and the location of Altena Farm where his first action triggered Operation Hurricane.

The visits to AP Alpha and Bravo went off well enough, though it was patently obvious that most of the men in the camps were anything but bona fide ZANLA. The few regulars were easy to spot because they carried standard issue AK-47 assault rifles that were in fair condition. The rest carried old beaten-up SKS rifles that had been out of use for over ten years save for the few issued to LTTs in 1972. At Marymount Mission (AP Bravo) I saw half a dozen sophisticated Swiss sniper rifles. They were obviously brand spanking new, never having been exposed to the rigours of the bush, but none had ammunition.

I stayed very close to Rex Nhongo wherever he went, just in case anyone decided to take a pot shot at me. I noticed that Lookout and Dumiso were doing the same and that Generals Acland and Barnard, accompanied by Brigadier Gurdon, kept close to the CFM officers.

Of all the ZANLA APs we visited I remember AP Charlie best. It was situated at the disused Nyagoma School in the extreme northeast. Here the ZANLA inmates were accommodated in British Army tents set in lines under a forest of superb trees that formed a continuous overhead canopy over many acres.

During our briefing in one of the classrooms by Australian CFM officers, a landmine detonated in the Cordon Sanitaire some five kilometres to our east. A few minutes passed before a second mine detonated causing the AP’s senior ZANLA man to rise from behind me and move to Rex who was sitting directly in front of me. He bent down and whispered in Rex’s ear, “Madora wa tuka.” This annoyed Rex who, in a loud voice, asked the man if he thought he was deaf. Of course he had heard the mines explode, “They must have been triggered by baboons.”

After the briefing we strolled through the camp to an open patch of ground where over 1,500 armed men stood five lines deep along three sides of a box formation. We positioned at the centre of the fourth side and Rex Nhongo moved to the centre of the square to give the gathering the same message he gave at every assembly point. This was to say the war was over and everyone had to work together to establish the new Zimbabwe. He had brought two senior RSF ‘comrades’ with him to prove that he was already working with his previous enemies. He said nothing about the Brits.

Having completed his talk he signalled me forward to address the gathering and introduced me in Shona. “This is Comrade Group Captain PB, once our enemy in the sky but now my friend. He will tell you why he has come to see you.” I asked Rex if I should speak in the vernacular. “Certainly not,” he said, “I do not want these people to know you understand their language. I will interpret what you say.” So I made a series of short statements in English and Rex passed these on in Shona.

At one point Rex misinterpreted what I had just said, deliberately I think, so I asked him to correct this. He immediately told the men that I was not satisfied with his interpretation and corrected the error. I nodded in agreement and completed what I had to say in mediocre Shona. Only in Africa could such anomalies pass without fuss. Rex then led the gathering in song, as was ZANLA’s custom at the conclusion of every meeting.

Only people who have experienced massed African voices in the open will understand the power, richness and purity of sound that comes from a people who harmonise perfectly without training or effort. I hated the chimurenga lyrics but the sheer volume and beauty of voice overrode the objectionable racial hatred expressed in the words.

Having left our position, every head was turned to watch us passing behind one echelon when I spotted a face I recognised. I immediately broke away from the official party and strode through five lines of perplexed men, mostly armed mujibas. The man I was moving towards turned away abruptly.

When I reached him, I asked, “Hey Timothy, what are you doing here?” There was no reply and he remained facing away from me looking down at his own feet. Accepting this rejection, I said, “Behave yourself Timothy. Visit me when you get to Salisbury.”

The official party had come to a halt to see what I was doing. As I returned to Rex’s side, he asked me who it was I had spoken to. I said I knew him as Timothy. Our servants in Salisbury had told Beryl and me about a youngster who was sleeping in a toilet in the suburb of Hatfield where we lived. He had lost his parents in the Mtoko area and, though tended by an uncle, was living a miserable existence. We decided to take him on as an assistant to Obert, our gardener. Timothy was given a warm comfortable bed, clothing, food and spending money. He was fine for many months and we were about to send him for schooling at our expense when he began to give Sarah and Obert a hard time. He had been warned to behave himself, but this did not work so we got rid of him. A year had passed since last I saw him.

Rex listened to my story then expressed his mirth with his typical deep belly laugh rolled into his rough smoker’s voice as he said, “He will be in for a tough time now! Everyone here has seen you and heard you talk. First they may wonder why you went to Timothy, but will then come to the conclusion he was passing information on ZANLA’s activities to you in Salisbury.”

The implications of this were frightening, so I asked Rex to make sure no harm came to the young man. “Do not worry,” said Rex, “he will not be hurt too badly. After what you did for him he deserves a bit of rough treatment for letting you down.” (In July 1980 Timothy was disbanded and visited us in Salisbury. He was well and confirmed that he had been severely harassed, “but not too badly hurt.”)

Of all the Commonwealth Monitoring Force teams in the ZANLA bases, only the Fijian team at AP Hotel appeared to be popular with the inmates where there was a modicum of order and discipline. This probably had a lot to do with the colour of the Fijian’s skin. Otherwise all ZANLA APs were packed with scruffy, ill-disciplined mujibas who scowled andslouched about. As already mentioned, there was very little evidence of men possessing the calibre and looks that typified the ZANLA operators we had either killed or captured in operations. Other than the Swiss sniper rifles, weapons were old and dilapidated. The operational weapons inside Rhodesia were very obviously still in the field with many hundreds of ZANLA’s regulars involved in electioneering work.

Unlike General Barnard and me, General Acland and Brigadier Gurdon seemed impressed with what they saw, whereas Lookout Masuku and Dumiso Dabengwa were horrified and their disdain for ZANLA showed clearly in their facial expressions.

No notice whatsoever was taken of our comments about the types and state of weapons until these Brits saw how ZIPRA’s men were armed.

Visits to ZIPRA APs

AFTER ZANLA, ZIPRA LOCATIONS WERE like a breath of fresh air. It certainly opened the eyes of the Brits and might even have made them realise why we insisted that all ZANLA APs were full of mujibas. The reason Rhodesians preferred ZIPRA was immediately apparent to General Acland and Brigadier Gurdon. They could see that the ZIPRA men were dressed in clean, crisply pressed uniforms; they moved with purpose, smiled easily, displayed good discipline and acted with courtesy.

It was possible to walk around without an escort, which I enjoyed. Wherever I went I was saluted and greeted in a friendly manner and also drew men who wanted to walk and talk with a Rhodesian Air Force pilot. It was only at AP Romeo, the very last Assembly Point to be visited, where Lookout Masuku had unusual events planned.

As our helicopter was making its long descending approach to Rukomechi Mission, one could not help but notice, from about five kilometres out, that many anti-aircraft guns were tracking the Puma helicopter. Lookout Masuku had forewarned the RAF crew of the guns so the helicopter captain was perfectly happy to maintain direction and descent.

Because nothing had been said to any of us in the rear cabin, the sight of those tracking guns put fear in the eyes of Simon Muzenda, Rex Nhongo and Tungamirai’s deputy. I was also feeling uncomfortable until I saw the smile on Lookout’s face as he winked at me.

When we alighted from the helicopter, the bush that surrounded the small LZ came alive as hundreds of armed ZIPRA men rose from the cover they had used to camouflage their presence. The Brits seemed impressed and ZANLA shrugged it of as unnecessary bravado.

A guard of honour awaited our arrival and General Barnard was invited to inspect the men dressed in East German fleckcamouflage uniforms. Their goose-step march-past made my skin crawl, but one could not miss the fact that we were watching trained soldiers.

This style of marching, both fascist and communist, made my skin crawl.

After the usual briefing, this time by ZIPRA officers, we were invited to a parade to be followed by a weapons demonstration. Some 2,000 ZIPRA soldiers were formed up in tiered lines from ground level to the top of the long earth embankment that served as a grandstand for the mission’s football field. The visiting party formed up in a line facing the assembly with CMF and ZIPRA officers behind.

Lookout Masuku moved forward and gave a short message to his troops. He then said that he would introduce the members of the Ceasefire Committee individually. Lookout gave place of honour to the Rhodesians and for reasons already known to me I was introduced first. I simply took one pace forward, saluted and stepped back into line. General Barnard followed me. Next Lookout introduced General Acland and Brigadier Gurdon before ZANLA.

Rex Nhongo was standing right beside me. As he stepped forward to salute, he was greeted with the menacing metallic sounds of heavy weapons being cocked. Being so close to him I went cold, expecting to be shot at any moment. Rex ignored the deliberate insult, saluted and stepped back. When Tungamirai’s deputy stepped forward, weapons were cocked again. ZIPRA’s hatred of ZANLA had been shown in a very graphic but typically African way!

Formalities over, we were asked to turn around to watch anti-aircraft crews deploy and fire their weapons. In the absence of an air target, a prominent white rock on a large hill about three kilometres away to our left was declared to be the target. Whistles were blown and out of the bush to our right emerged three crews pulling wheeled guns to a position some thirty metres to our front. One 23mm and two 14.7mm guns were set up quickly, and one of the 14.7 pieces commenced firing but jammed after expending about ten rounds. The others then opened fire, creating one hell of a dim. Green and red tracer rounds raced away with the red 23mm rounds travelling noticeably faster than the green ones. The accuracy was impressive.

The senior ZIPRA commander of AP Romeo insisted that I should take a close look at the guns. He boasted that these had shot down some of our aircraft at Kariba. I did not argue with him because he seemed so pleased about something that never happened.

Elections

UNTIL A NEW GOVERNMENT WAS elected into power, management of the country vested with the British Government in the person of Governor Lord Soames, though law and order remained in the hands of NATJOC. In terms of the Lancaster House Agreement, Lord Soames had the responsibility of preparing all polling stations and ensuring voters enjoyed total security and freedom of choice. Of greater importance was his responsibility to ensure that no political party indulged in the intimidation of voters during the lead-up to elections. Any party found guilty of intimidation was to be disqualified wholly or in part by proscribing specific electoral zones.

In this task Lord Soames failed dismally. Mugabe’s ZANU party not only disregarded its undertaking to get all ZANLA into the APs, it kept 90% of its forces in the field with orders to indulge in cruel electioneering methods including murder of important members of black opposition parties. Soames knew this was going on but refused to invalidate Mugabe’s party either wholly or in those areas where intimidation was greatest. The British had neither the courage nor integrity to stand by the very agreement they had brought upon the four contesting parties. Appeasement in the face of threats from the OAU and black Commonwealth leaders was obviously more important to Britain’s long-term objectives than the future of the people of Zimbabwe-Rhodesian. When Henry Kissinger met Ian Smith many months later he explained the paradox like this. “The politics of convenience has little to do with truth or logic!”

We had become accustomed to British duplicity but could not abide what we perceived to be total inaction by our NATJOC in forcing Lord Soames to act on British undertakings. The NATJOC’s attention seemed wholly distracted by other matters.

For some weeks a team had been assembled in COMOPS to monitor loads of incoming data to pre-determine the final outcome of elections. Information poured in from all provinces giving voter numbers and their political leanings. As I recall it, the opinion being expressed to NATJOC was that Ian Smith’s RF party would secure all twenty white seats and Joshua Nkomo was sure to get at least twenty N’debele seats. Muzorewa and Sithole only needed to win eleven seats to allow a coalition between these parties to block Mugabe’s ZANU party. The team advising NATJOC was adamant that Muzorewa alone would do better than this.

I was having a drink in the small COMOPS pub one evening when, inevitably, the elections became the topic of conversation. Some time earlier I had come to the firm conclusion that, short of proscribing ZANU, there was absolutely no hope of stopping Mugabe coming to power. I expressed this opinion but had no chance to qualify it because a fiery COMOPS lieutenantcolonel was so put out by my words that he leapt across the bar counter intending to strike me with his fist. Major Peter Burford quickly came between us and told his colleague not to be a bloody fool. “I think the Groupie may be right. Give him an opportunity to tell us why.”

My contention was this. The electorate could be counted on to give Smith and Nkomo a total of forty seats. For a number of reasons I thought this left the remaining sixty seats open to Mugabe. In terms of the Lancaster House Agreement, Mugabe should already have been ruled out of the elections for blatant and widespread intimidation and murder. But, the Brits were obviously not going to do this and, from what we could see, the NATJOC seemed either misinformed or too weak to force the issue, even though the Lancaster House Agreement had placed it in control of all security matters. NATJOC was specifically tasked with ensuring that the entire election process was conducted in a free and fair manner. With intimidation peaking and time running out, this made the NATJOC’s perceived inaction all the more intolerable.

Muzorewa had shown himself to be weak and indecisive, whereas Mugabe had told the people that only he could stop the war. In Harare Township the urban people, who had been on-side throughout the war, were now openly singing Mugabe praise songs. To my way of thinking, the writing was on the wall. Eighty per cent of the black electorate lived outside Matabeleland, and all of these would vote ‘for peace’. They had suffered most and were now thoroughly sick and tired of a war they genuinely believed could only be stopped by Mugabe. That was my contention, but General Walls and the NATJOC obviously saw things differently.

Possibly because he believed the information being fed to him and wished to uphold the morale of his forces, General Walls called a meeting of Army and Air Force officers at the New Sarum Sports Club. As I recall, no member of COMOPS staff was included.

Since I did not attend the meeting addressed by General Walls, I cannot say exactly what was said. I do know, however, that he gave the assembled officers his personal guarantee that he would not allow Mugabe to come to power. I also know that the general’s speech left most officers with a clear understanding that military action would be taken against ZANU in the ‘unlikely event’ that it gained a majority at the polls. This notion, however, was very much at odds with what General Walls had told his own staff. In COMOPS we had been informed, categorically, that no unconstitutional action would be considered. General Walls said, “There is no question of Rhodesians indulging in a military coup.”

The ‘whites only’ election was held on 14 February and went off smoothly with Ian Smith’s RF party gaining all twenty white seats, as expected. On 27, 28 and 29 February the ‘common roll’ voters went to the polling stations where illprepared London Bobbies and other Commonwealth observers watched the long lines of voters ‘to ensure that no intimidation was taking place’. They had no idea that ZANLA had told harassed tribesmen that the reason for three days of voting was simple. Day One was for all people voting for Mugabe; Day Two was for Muzorewa and Day Three for Nkomo. Anyone not voting on Day One would be dealt with very severely.

The observers, most on African soil for the first time, were blissfully unaware of subtle intimidation going on right under their noses or of blatant intimidation against people approaching from beyond their sight; this was at its worst during Days Two and Three. But Rhodesians who watched could clearly see ZANLA’s underhanded methods. Intimidation was rife and people were told that voting for Mugabe had been extended to include all three days. “The spirits and special spies will reveal any individual who did not place his mark in favour of ZANU.”

The news coming in from all around the country seemed to undo any false hopes amongst members of the NATJOC. High levels of frustration were evident with much toing and froing between COMOPS and Government House. General Walls sent an urgent signal to Margaret Thatcher in an attempt to stop the rot. He received no reply until elections were over, and there was not the faintest hint that any action would be taken by Britain against ZANU.

Whilst this was going on, I continued to spend most of my time with ZIPRA and ZANLA. ZIPRA knew what was going on in the field and were thoroughly depressed. ZANLA knew what was going on in the field and were elated. Throughout the day of 3 March, results of the elections kept coming through but no clear-cut trend emerged until late that night. Things looked bad when I eventually retired to bed.

I recall sitting at my desk the next morning when a sensation of overwhelming panic struck me just as a cup of tea was placed before me. Even though I thought I was fully prepared, final confirmation over the radio of Mugabe’s whopping fifty-seven seats victory floored me. It must have been really awful for those who had been so confident that Muzorewa would get more than eleven seats because he only gained three! During the afternoon the Ceasefire Committee held its closing meeting and a final photograph was taken on the steps outside the conference room.

In a stunned state I wandered up to Air HQ to be near friends and to gaze out of the window of the office I once used for my projects work. Salisbury’s streets and avenues were filled with celebrating blacks. Open lorries were parading about, filled with excited people, flapping their arms and uttering the sound of a cockerel crowing at dawn—ZANU’s election symbol.

Because I was a member of the Ceasefire Committee with continuing liaison duties between COMOPS, ZIPRA and ZANLA, it is not surprising that I was totally unaware that SAS and RLI were on immediate standby to take out ZANLA’s hierarchy in the event of a Mugabe victory. However, high hopes following detailed planning and rehearsed tasks, which included the employment of tanks and other heavy equipment, turned out to be a damp squib. The secret codeword to launch this top-secret operation was never given. Incensed by General Walls’s assurance that Mugabe would not be allowed to come to power, the disgusted SAS named the situation ‘Rhodesia’s Walls Street Crash’.

At all of Salisbury’s major road intersections vehicle-borne troops waited for trouble whilst trying to put on a brave face for passing civilians—but nothing happened. Overhead, helicopters orbited, watching for any breakout of looting—but this did not occur. An air of depression and uncertainty hung over all who opposed ZANU as well as many who had been coerced through fear into voting for Mugabe’ party. Many people went home, shops closed and almost all work had ceased by midday.

Radio and television stations ran some regular programmes, but for the most part Mugabe’s victory held prominence. Repeatedly listeners and viewers were reminded that Robert Mugabe would address the nation at 8 pm.

When he came on air, Mugabe projected himself as a decent chap, preaching reconciliation and the need to put the past behind us. He was at pains to give hope and asked every citizen of the new Zimbabwe to move forward with faith and determination to build on its vibrant economy in a non-racial society. Whilst he was speaking, I sensed considerable relief. However, when he had finished, I thought things through.

When released from prison in 1974 to participate in the Zambian-South African sponsored talks in Lusaka, Mugabe had broken solemn undertakings by escaping into Mozambique. He had failed to meet any promise made to Nkomo. Yet now, having blatantly broken every agreement with Britain and three other parties at Lancaster House, he was projecting himself as an honest and fair-minded man. I could not accept this. The Mugabe leopard was not about to change his spots; he was a Marxist through and through and could be counted on to change direction whenever it suited him.

Within an hour of the speech my mind was made up. I had to resign from the Air Force and decide if I should stay in Zimbabwe or sell up and move my family away from a Marxist government that would undoubtedly become a oneparty dictatorship, just like the rest of black Africa. Personal enrichment for Africa’s leading politicians had deprived their peoples of pre-independence wealth and their pathetic management had destroyed previously strong economic foundations. Zimbabwe would be no different!

Joint High Command HQ

SETTING UP THE JOINT HIGH Command Headquarters commenced on 6 March. Whilst COMOPS HQ was being wrapped up I, together with a handful of officers, commenced furnishing new offices in a newly built wing at Army HQ. Unfortunately Brigadier Peter Rich had retired and Brian Robinson was no longer with COMOPS so those of us remaining no longer enjoyed any spirit of fun and laughter. Brigadier Leon Jacobs replaced Peter Rich but I hardly ever saw him.

Air HQ was already inundated with resignations. So, knowing that the notice period would only take effect at the end of the month, I did not tender mine right away. I had in excess of 300 days’ leave due, though only 184 of these attracted leave pay, but this was more than sufficient to cover the mandatory three-months notice period meaning that I could withhold my resignation to the end of March and leave the service immediately. As it happened, I stayed on until the end of May.

The ZIPRA and ZANLA commanders moved into their offices as soon as they were ready. Progressively other offices filled and Zimbabwe’s Joint High Command HQ started to function under command of Lieutenant-General Walls who had been appointed to the position by Prime Minister Mugabe.

My job was to continue as the linkman with ZIPRA and ZANLA, initially to prepare for the integration of forces. Since most of this involved Army matters, Lieutenant-Colonel ‘Fluff’ Templer worked with me. Amongst the many issues to be thrashed out was the question of bringing in all ZIPRA and ZANLA arms and equipment from Zambia and Mozambique. Though it took some time, ZIPRA handed me their ordnance schedules and, as agreed, Fluff Templer let them have sight of the Rhodesian Army’s schedules. I did the same by showing those of the Air Force.

Rex Nhongo insisted on seeing all these schedules, even though he was not forthcoming with his own. This was largely due to the loss of Josiah Tongogara and utter confusion in Mozambique. Besides, most records were lost to ZANLA during multiple operations against the various Chimoio bases and finally as a consequence of the Monte Casino raid. Nevertheless, I refused to show ZANLA anything until they were in a position to reciprocate.

ZIPRA’s lists were neat and well presented. They revealed larger numbers of battle tanks, APCs and other fighting equipment than we had expected. I had already left the service when ZIPRA’s equipment eventually came into the country via Victoria Falls, but was told that the equipment matched the lists, whereas ZANLA, as expected, never made any submission.

ZANLA continued to claim having more equipment than ZIPRA. We knew this was pure bluff, which was later confirmed by a senior ZANLA officer. In a drunken state he let slip that there were no reserves in Mozambique and that, had the war continued, ZANLA would have collapsed around mid-1980. This was mind-boggling news making us realise that, had Op Manacle taken place, ZANLA would have been out of the game before the Lancaster House Talks were concluded. Bloody sickening! Nevertheless we were stuck with a political failure and had to make the best of the situation.

Fluff Templer and I spent many hours in discussion with the ZANLA and ZIPRA commanders and provided them with every single idea on many matters relating to the integration of forces. Along the way, agendas were raised for repeat discussions with General Walls, the Commanders of the Army and Air Force, the Commissioner of Police and Ken Flower who continued to head CIO.

Nothing that Fluff and I recommended was accepted in these long drawn-out meetings that covered the same ground but resulted in totally different agreements. I felt we were wasting our time but General Walls insisted that Fluff and I should continue because we were exposing ZIPRA and ZANLA to many issues and complications that prepared them better for the high-level meetings.

When I submitted my resignation to Air HQ, the only real resistance to my leaving service came from Air Commodore Norman Walsh and Group Captain Hugh Slatter who both tried to persuade me to stay on. At Joint High Command ZIPRA and ZANLA received the news badly. All four commanders, individually, begged me to remain because they said they knew me better than any other RSF officer and had come to trust me above all others. This was the continuing issue of preferring Air Force to other services.

My situation became especially difficult when Rex Nhongo said that he and all ZANLA and ZIPRA commanders wanted me to take overall command of all forces. He said Mugabe had supported this. I told Rex this was an absolute impossibility. Not only was I five rank-levels below the rank he was considering, I was totally unprepared in experience for such a position. His reply showed how differently he thought. “When the sergeant is better than the lieutenant-colonel, the sergeant becomes the full colonel.”

This situation was altogether unexpected and I saw great danger in it. In Rhodesian terms, I knew I was totally unprepared for such a responsible position, and even less so for what promised to become a political post. Why I even thought the matter through I couldn’t say because my heart was already set on getting out of uniform. Strangely, I was helped in making a final decision by one of ZANLA’s field commanders who warned me that Zimbabwe would soon be driven by ideologies that would fail to fill peoples’ stomachs. He was certain that the ordinary man would fail to realise any of the ‘freedom’ promises made by politicians whose future actions would all be driven by personal greed.

On Tuesday 27 May 1980, four days before my last day in office, I was leaving home for work when I spotted a stationary grey Land Rover with a long HF aerial. It was parked just beyond our garden gate on the other side of the street. Immediately I became suspicious and, as I passed by and looked towards the driver, I saw a white man of about sixty years of age flick his head away and raise a newspaper high enough to prevent my seeing his face through my rear-view mirror. Day and night for the next 730 days my movements were monitored from grey CIO Peugeot 504 sedans with long HF aerials.

Air Marshal Mick McLaren had retired four months earlier and became Director of Shell and BP Subsidiary Companies. When I retired, he offered me a position as general manager of one of these companies. Within eighteen months I was managing two more and became a member of the Board of Directors of Subsidiary Companies.

This must have been a headache for the CIO who monitored all my movements. From early morning until about midnight, one of four vehicles was always in one or other of three shaded parking spots outside my house. But what really floored me was that the other three vehicles were waiting at the three companies, all manned by elderly white men whom I deliberately ignored. My business telephones were fine but my home telephone was tapped whenever I was at home. About one second after line connection, a distinct click was followed by a dull background noise that persisted for the duration of each call.

I can only assume that my reasons for refusing to stay on with the Zimbabwe forces were treated with suspicion, something along the line “If he is not with us he must be against us!” Funnily enough I became so used to being monitored that, when surveillance was lifted on 27 May 1982, I experienced a strange sense of nakedness knowing that I was no longer important. In November and December I went overseas to explore a business opportunity. Upon my return, full surveillance of my movements was reinstated, but only for one week. This made it safe for me to move out of Zimbabwe.

In April 1983 I left the country of my birth for good. Beryl stayed on for another five months to wind up her hairdressing business and sell our home. Both our children had moved ahead of us to South Africa. Debbie was nursing at Groote Schuur Hospital and Paul was at Rhodes University in Cape Town doing Chemical Engineering.

There was much pain in leaving such a beautiful country, but we had decided that Rhodesia no longer existed. This had nothing to do with the change of the country’s name or the fact that blacks were in power. It had everything to do with a top-heavy government bent on establishing a Marxist-styled one-party dictatorship that would almost certainly destroy our country. Anyway Mugabe’s promises of a country in which all could live in harmony and peace were already showing serious cracks.

Many officers and men stayed on with the Air Force of Zimbabwe, all enjoying hugely accelerated promotion to fill gaps left by senior men who chose not to serve under the new political order. Those who remained were all fine men who gave their all to maintaining the Air Force they loved. But then things took a nasty turn on Sunday 25 July 1982 when South African-based saboteurs launched an attack against aircraft based at Thornhill.

What these saboteurs hoped to achieve one cannot say but the repercussions of the incident were horrifying. Determined to find someone to blame for the embarrassment of losing four brand-new Hawk Mk60 fighters, Hunters and a Lynx, Mugabe’s bullyboys turned on Air Force officers who suffered arrest, foul torture and false accusations. This hysterical action by ignorant political thugs showed that ZANU did not understand that Air Force men could never have considered destroying the very aircraft they loved so much.

I have to say that this horror made me pleased I had left the service when I did. But knowing my friends were in prison I sought to see what I could do to help. The Commander of the Air Force of Zimbabwe, Air Marshal Norman Walsh, told me to stay well clear of these matters, as they were very sensitive. He himself was under twenty-four-hour surveillance and did not require any more help than he and the imprisoned officers were receiving from lawyers Mike Hartmann, Rhett Gardener and Mike d’Enis.

More than a year passed before the officers were acquitted and released by a black judge on 31 August 1983. Outside the court they were immediately re-arrested and another long year followed before all were eventually released and deported from Zimbabwe, their service pensions having been denied them.

How those guys managed to put on a brave face on the few occasions they were seen during trial baffled me until I learned how Air Force technician-turned-chaplain, Boet van Schalkwyk, and the men’s wives had given so much support, love and spiritual guidance.

Barbara Cole’s book Sabotage and Torture tells the full sad tale of torture and trumped-up evidence against these unfortunate victims caught up in a wicked political game.

One of the few officers who remained in service with the Air Force of Zimbabwe was Ian Harvey who, with twenty-two years of service to Rhodesia, was a flight lieutenant from 1967 to 1980. Even before I moved to COMOPS, Ian had recorded 4,000 flying hours on Alouettes but then went on to exceed 6,000 hours; a world record I thought until I learned Mark Smithdorff had many more from his military service and fire-fighting operations in America.

Following another twenty years in service with Robert Mugabe’s Air Force, Ian finally retired in the rank air vicemarshal. For this he received no more than his Mercedes staff car.