On a bridge spanning a remote section of the Mazoe River, the SAP stopped their Land Rover on the south side when they saw a handful of apparently unarmed ‘friendly terrorists’ waving and approaching them from the northern end of the high-level concrete bridge. Totally off guard, four unarmed South African policemen debussed and strode forward to meet the CTs in the middle of the bridge. They had not taken many paces towards the men they expected to meet in peace when machine-guns opened up from the hidden force behind them.
The four white policemen died but one black soldier survived. He was an N’debele member of RAR who had been allocated to the SAP as an interpreter. He did not trust the Shona and had held back slightly, walking against the railing of the bridge. Though wounded in the initial burst of fire, he managed to dive into the water far below the road deck. A long wait in the crocodile-infested water worried him because of his bleeding, but his instinctive actions had saved his life. The terrorists had hurried away from the murder scene without waiting to ensure that everyone was dead. When the survivor eventually got back to his base, he told the story of what had happened.
The sight of their slaughtered companions and the theft of arms, ammunition and grenades from the empty Land Rover angered the SAP and sent ripples of resentment throughout South Africa. So much for the Vorster’s ceasefire that had been forced on Rhodesia! So much too for the instruction to leave CTs alone! For us the ceasefire was over. Nevertheless everything went quiet again.
Firelighters
WHENEVER I VISITED CSIR in Pretoria, I called in on engineers Dr John de Villiers and Vernon Joynt because they were great men and always had something new and interesting to show me. In 1974 they introduced me to small delayed-action flame generators. Each unit came in the form of a 100mm-square sealed plastic packet containing potassium permanganate powder. To activate the powder, a small quantity of glycol, deliberately dyed red, was injected by hypodermic syringe into the packet. The liquid migrated rapidly through the white powder turning it pink. For about forty seconds nothing changed until the packet swelled rapidly, then burst into flame and burned fiercely for about eight seconds.
I asked Vernon if 1,000 of these packets and an appropriate quantity of dyed glycol could be prepared and sent to me in Salisbury. He agreed and a large cardboard box duly arrived at Air Movements addressed to me. My interest in these little flame generators was to establish if it was possible to burn large tracts of Mozambican grass and bushveld in the hope of destroying minor crops, thatching grass and the overhead cover upon which FRELIMO and the CTs depended.
One night during the 1975 dry season I flew a ten-kilometre radius route around the Mozambican side of Mukumbura to initiate a burn-line that was expected to run inwards to Mukumbura and outwards as far as the fire would go.
The rear door of my Cessna 185 had been removed and two technicians sat facing each other behind me with the box of plastic bags between them. As fast as they could, they injected fluid into the bags and tossed them out into the black. By the time we completed our circular run, all 1,000 packets had made their long drop to ground and had set off the line of fires that clearly marked our passage. Initially it looked as if our objective would be realised, but when I flew over the area the next day, long fingers of burnt grass stretched outward through countryside that was 90% unscathed.
Although this did not work for us in savannah country, it is interesting to note that Canadian fire-fighting helicopters use a similar method to initiate back-burning lines when combating large forest fires. For this, the powder is encased in ping-pong balls that are automatically injected with glycol as they pass rapidly through a very fancy automatic dispenser.
Quiet times
MY AIR STAFF POST AS Ops 1 suited me nicely and it was wonderful to go home every evening and have weekends off. The workload was low with very little associated stress at a time when operations in the field were virtually at a standstill. However, we had no doubt that the war would resume and we used the break to prepare for this.
Ian Smith had been given a Beech Baron twin-engined, propeller-driven executive aircraft, I think by a lady in America who greatly admired our Prime Minister’s stand against communism. The PM passed the aircraft to the Air Force for its own use providing it was always made available to him to fly on regular visits to his farm ‘Gwenora’ near Selukwe.
Having been a fighter pilot himself, Ian Smith always flew his aircraft and favoured Flight Lieutenants Bob d’Hotmann or Ivan Holshausen to fly with him. On two occasions I flew passenger in the back of the aircraft sitting next to the PM’s friendly wife who talked a great deal. Janet never once entered into a non-political discussion and asked many searching questions to test my opinions on Rhodesia’s political affairs. I do not believe she found me wanting.
In addition to Ian Smith’s Baron, the squadron acquired four Islander light-transport aircraft that came into the Air Force inventory in an unexpected way. First one, then another, then two more Islanders arrived unannounced at Salisbury Airport carrying Portuguese families evicted from Mozambique in FRELIMO’s erroneous drive to rid the country of whites. The owners of these aircraft, like all those being evicted from their homes and businesses, had lost all they possessed, so they brought their machines secretly to Rhodesia to sell for money to start new lives.
The Islander was ideal for light communication work and came at a good price. A fair amount of hard work was needed to bring them up to Air Force standards and to regularise equipment and fittings before entry into regular service. Later more Islanders were added to the fleet.
What the Air Force really needed at the time was a replacement aircraft for 4 Squadron’s ageing Provosts and the underpowered Trojans. I was tasked to make an assessment of light civilian aircraft that, if modified for weapons delivery, would meet our needs. We really wanted an aircraft specifically designed for our type of war but, though there were plenty on the international market, none could be sold to Rhodesia because of the UN mandatory sanctions. This gave us no option but to identify a standard ‘civilian’ aircraft that we could buy, preferably from France, for operational upgrade. The French, more interested in commerce than in UN restrictions, had been good to us. In spite of sanctions, France had helped to increase our helicopter fleet from eight Alouettes to more than double that number, even with losses taken into account. How this was done and how we acquired 20mm cannons and other matérial was not for me to know.
The most suitable of the fixed-wing aircraft available inside the country appeared to me to be the American-designed twin, in-line, push-pull Cessna 337 with retractable undercarriage. Of importance was the fact that this aircraft was built under licence in France. The owner of the only available 337 and Wing Commander Bill Smith handled the machine whilst I looked on from the back seat. I was satisfied that the aircraft possessed the power, lift capacity and speed we needed and, like the Cessna 185, it was well suited to recce.