Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

by Peter Petter-Bowyer

  Back at Nevada Farm however, he became frustrated by the Police choosing only to react to ground-acquired intelligence and refusing to accept any lead given by a pilot. Two days later a cave with freshly burnt embers, at the precise location John Rogers had plotted on the police operations map, proved to have been occupied by the terrorist gang on the night in question.

  Intelligence established that the Nevada Gang, comprising seven men, was a component of the twenty-one men who entered Rhodesia together then split up near Sinoia. The Armageddon Group had remained in the Sinoia area where it had been annihilated and the third group of seven had gone on to Salisbury. An ex-BSA policeman by the name of Gumbotshuma led the gang we now sought. He turned out to be a wily bird because he understood police thinking and tactics. In particular he understood the police cordon-and-search system and obviously knew how to exploit its weaknesses, as we were to find out.

  Following discovery of the cave, ground leads indicated that Gumbotshuma and his men were currently camping on the side of the Mcheka-wa-ka-Sungabeta mountain, some way northeast of the cave. This section of the mountain range formed the western boundary of the Zowa African Purchase Land for black farmers. It was from a named farmer that the Nevada Gang was receiving succour. From his lofty perch Gumbotshuma could monitor all movements on the African farms below. Nevada Farm was only thirteen miles away and all roads leading into his area were visible to Gumbotshuma.

  He watched the helicopters flying to the ridge behind him and knew that they were deploying men of the stop line. He watched the vehicles arriving at the base of the mountain and saw flanking men climb the mountain in two lines on either side of his position. After a long while, the sweep line at the base commenced its slow climb towards him.

  All of the terrorists were closely grouped in a gully and moved slowly forward under directions given by Gumbotshuma. When the gap he was watching for seemed right, the gang tucked against one bank of the gully and listened as the closest men in the sweep line passed noisily by. Having been missed, Gumbotshuma knew the force would be uplifted from the ridge by helicopter and flown back to the waiting vehicles below. All he had to do was stay low until all the police returned to base.

  There is a basic rule for aircrew concerning the consumption of alcohol. This is, ‘eight hours between bottle and throttle’. It is easy enough to comply with if one or two drinks are taken before retiring to bed early. In the bush we would not consume any alcoholic beverage until we were certain there would be no need to fly that night. However, after the abortive sweep of the mountain all was quiet so the aircrew tucked into a couple of ice-cold beers before dinner and an early night.

  We had consumed three beers apiece and were about to have our meal when Ian Harvey and I were instructed to grab our kit and get up to the police station at Zwimba. With three beers in an empty stomach, having not eaten since early morning, I was very concerned about flying on such a dark night. The act of lifting off into the black had the apparent effect of sobering me up completely and we arrived at Zwimba safely.

  At Zwimba every policeman available had set off to investigate a report of a lone terrorist who had arrived at a farmer’s house. We waited all night to be called forward but no call came. I remember how Ian Harvey curled up under the Charge Office counter and slept like a baby whilst my technician Jerry Hayter and I paced up and down until vehicles arrived at dawn with a wounded terrorist. His name was Abel Denga.

  Abel had been shot through the stomach by an African police sergeant when he emerged from a hut next to the farmer’s house and attempted to shoot the sergeant. Abel had been with the Nevada Gang during the unsuccessful sweep on the mountain the previous day. He said he knew where Gumbotshuma and the rest of his gang could be found some distance from the mountain. In response to questioning, he said he would be able to direct an airborne force to their present location.

  Following first-aid treatment to his wound, I got airborne with Abel and five armed policemen. Ian followed with another six armed policemen. But it soon became clear that Abel had no idea where he was because we were being given haphazard changes in direction. The police believed he was deliberately misleading us, so we returned to Zwimba for the exercise to be conducted by road. This also turned into a wild goose chase because Abel was totally disorientated. He looked really washed out when the ground party returned, so we wrapped him up in blankets and placed him on a stretcher to fly him to Harare Hospital.

  Jerry Hayter watched Abel throughout the flight and became concerned about his fast and weakening pulse. An ambulance was waiting at the hospital helicopter pad where two black female nurses took the stretcher from us and were about to put it in the ambulance. I requested that they return the stretcher to the helicopter as soon as possible. “Certainly”, said the older of the two nurses, whereupon they rotated the helicopter stretcher to drop Abel face down onto their own ambulance stretcher. Jerry and I were incensed by this callous act but the older nurse simply said, “Bloody terrorist bastard”, climbed into the ambulance and sped away towards the hospital. Having seen relatively kind treatment from the Police and SB, including the sergeant Abel had attempted to shoot, the attitude of these professional nurses seemed way out of place. Two days later we heard that Abel Denga had died.

  From the hospital we flew the short distance back to New Sarum because I had been recalled to start my QHI (Qualified Helicopter Instructor) course. Back in the op area four terrorists were killed. Edmond Nyandoro who had received his training at Nanking Military College in China was captured and sentenced to death for his direct involvement in the Viljoens’ murders. Gumbotshuma escaped back to Zambia following a long trek up the Hunyani River and the Tete Province of Mozambique. The third group of seven made a serious mistake in going to Salisbury. They were all apprehended when Police ground coverage teams detected their presence the moment they arrived in Harare Township.

  Of the group of twenty-one men who entered Rhodesia, only Gumbotshuma escaped. Nevertheless, publicity arising from their activities suited ZANU perfectly. The loss of twenty men was of no concern to the politicos of ZANU whose only interest was to prove to the Liberation Committee of the OAU that the party was active inside Rhodesia.

  Aiden Diggeden

  MOST RHODESIANS KNEW OF A colourful young prisoner named Aiden Diggeden. He was a gentle rogue who claimed that no prison would ever hold him for long and, as I recall, he proved this three times. On one of these, Aiden escaped with two other white prisoners. I became involved in covering ground from Lake McIlwaine to the small settlement of Selous on the main road to Bulawayo. After a fruitless search of almost three hours I needed to refuel but no police station was prepared for helicopter operations in those times. Fortunately our Alouettes’ engines could use Avtur, the correct jet paraffin, or diesel fuel, so I landed on the main road next to the Selous service station. Vehicles backed up either side of the helicopter until my technician and I pushed it to a diesel pump. This created consternation for the station attendant and drew crowds of people to watch proceedings until the diesel storage tank ran dry before the helicopter’s tank was half full. Then new information came through to let us know the search had switched to another area; so we returned to base. Aiden was apprehended three days later.

  On another occasion he triggered a countrywide manhunt that had been on the go for three days before Aiden was accidentally discovered hiding in a water reservoir set high above the main prison buildings. He had been waiting in there for everything to quieten down before making the escape he had planned.

  Aiden was a man who could charm anyone including his jailers and he used this gift to good advantage. He was also a gifted athlete. For some weeks, when out in the exercise yard, he would sprint to the high prison wall and run almost to its summit before executing a backward somersault to land neatly on his feet. He told his prison warders he was practising for the day he would reach the top of the wall, roll over it, and land next to the vehicle that would race him away to freedom. Be
lieving the wall was too high, this latest leg-pull amused the warders who were used to being ribbed by Aiden. When the time was right however, Aiden did just as he said he would and managed to reach South Africa.

  Helicopter projects continued

  IN BETWEEN QHI FLIGHTS, THERE was time to continue with my two projects. With the aid of the Drawing Office and Station Workshops I produced a prototype mounting for side-firing machine-guns that incorporated an arrangement to arrest expended cartridge cases and links. Squadron Leader Rogers and I conducted firing tests that proved the mounting but highlighted the need for a suitable gun-sight. I managed to lay hands on a small French reflector sight that improved accuracy dramatically.

  PB showing visiting Portuguese officers the MAG fit.

  With minor modifications, the mounting was used for the next fourteen years though .303 Browning machine-guns, because of their higher rate of fire, later replaced the MAG machine-guns. Because .303 Browning had a bad reputation for jamming, they were fitted in pairs.

  Every pilot and technician on 7 Squadron was required to attain high proficiency on these side-firing guns. It took some doing, but Air HQ eventually agreed to the award of Air Gunners Wings to all technicians who met the laid-down standard of proficiency.

  These embroidered cloth wings, displaying upward facing bullet set between two stubby wings (second from left on the bottom row), that were proudly worn above rank insignia on the left arm.

  Badges of rank and distinguishing badges.

  When the pressure refuelling pump had been proven in secret I told my Squadron Commander what had been done and why. Having witnessed a demonstration he gave me his unreserved approval for what had been achieved and even undertook to take the project on his own head to protect me from the inevitable repercussions that would flow from Air HQ. For this I was grateful but said I must take the responsibility, having intentionally hidden the developmental work from him. Nevertheless, Squadron Leader Rogers arranged for a high-level team of Air and Technical Staff officers to visit the squadron.

  Visiting from Air HQ was a team of four officers comprising the Director General Operations, Staff Officer Operations, the Director General of Supporting Services (DGSS) and Command Armament Officer. They went directly to Squadron Leader Rogers’ office for discussions on subjects that differed from my OC’s prime purpose, which was to demonstrate pressure refuelling.

  The concrete helicopter pad was bare but for two full drums of Avtur. One stood upright and the other was on its side at the edge of the pad. Out of sight on the sports field were two waiting helicopters. One carried the conventional kamena kawena pump and the other was fitted with the lighter prototype pressure-refuelling unit.

  When the visiting officers emerged from the OC’s office they were invited by John Rogers to witness a short demonstration. As he approached the hangar door and saw only two fuel drums on the empty Helicopter pad, Group Captain Jimmy Pringle (DGSS), who had not been opposed to running an engine to refuel helicopters, immediately realised what was coming. He winked at me and whispered in my ear, “Naughty, naughty.”

  The two helicopters lifted into view and moved forward to the helicopter pad. The one with the kamena kawena pump landed well clear of the drum that lay on its side. The one with the pressure refueller landed next to the upright drum. Both pilots closed fuel cocks and stopped the rotors, but only the pilot with the kamena kawena pump closed down his engine. Both crews exited and removed their refuelling gear from the rear compartment. The pressure-refuelling pump was inserted into the drum the moment the bung had been removed and refuelling commenced before the technician of the second aircraft had rolled his drum to the helicopter. Pressure refuelling ended, the pump was back in its storage bay, and rotors were wound up to governed speed for lift-off six minutes after landing. At that moment, the pilot of the second aircraft had just started cranking the kamena kawena pump. He lifted off sixteen minutes after landing.

  Squadron Leader Rogers and I received a bit of a blasting for unauthorised development and for using Station Workshops and materials without HQ approval. Otherwise, the Air HQ officers were convinced by the demonstration and gave authority to manufacture pressure pumps for each helicopter.

  Some days after all helicopters had been equipped with the new pressure pumps, I was astounded to be told by Air HQ that, being a commissioned Officer, I could expect nothing for my invention. I knew this without having to be told but, because the matter had been raised, I requested that Air Force take out a patent on the design. This request was made so that any financial benefit that might derive in the future could be passed to the Air Force Benevolent Fund that provided relief to servicemen in distress. I was assured this would be done.

  Sanctions against Rhodesia were affecting our ability to buy certain spares and more so to procuring additional helicopters. A number of visits from Frenchmen of Sud Aviation as well as South African and Portuguese military people included inspections and demonstrations of the helicopter gun-mounting and pressure-refueller. Arising from French interests in the refuellers, it seems that the full data pack for the pressure equipment was handed to Sud Aviation in exchange for our urgent needs. That was fine, but no rites or royalty agreement was concluded because no patent existed.

  When I learned about this, I was as mad as a snake for three reasons. Firstly, the French asked if our latest order for three new helicopters was to be with or without pressure refuellers. Secondly, we heard that the French had sold the refuellerdesign to the USAAF for use in Vietnam and finally, Air Force members with wives and children in need of special medical treatment outside the country could not expect the level of assistance from the Benevolent Fund that might have been possible had AIR HQ patented the refuelling system—as had been promised.

  Accidental entry into Zambia

  THE FRENCH HAD ALWAYS MADE it clear to all Alouette III users that this helicopter should not be flown at night or deliberately enter cloud. This was because, unlike fixed-wing aircraft, helicopters are inherently unstable and cannot be allowed to enter into any unusual flight attitude that could, in a matter of seconds, result in the aircraft breaking up in flight. However, because our Air Force seniors had not flown helicopters and believed that Rhodesian pilots were too well trained to worry about French opinions our helicopter pilots were committed to flying at night. For this they had to be wide-awake for every second in the air. We even had to practise daytime instrument flying under a hood arrangement and were tasked for hundreds of night training flights into every remote police station in the country.

  We really needed every possible aid to reduce uncertainties and tension at night, whereas our aids were limited to standard flight instruments and VHF radio. My own experiences had shown me that navigation at night was particularly difficult and that there was urgent need for an instrument that would indicate the direction to fly to reach the point of destination. Such an instrument was already in service with South African Air Force helicopters. It was known as the Becker Homer.

  A Becker Homer responded to incoming transmissions on any selected frequency. A needle on its indicator dial moved left or right of a centre-line marker in response to an incoming signal. Though the needle should have remained upright for a transmission emanating from directly ahead, it seldom did. Nevertheless, by asking the ground operator to give a long transmission it was possible in a turn to watch for the needle’s swing across centre as the nose came to the direction to steer to the point of transmission.

  I submitted a request for this equipment through my Squadron Commander and OC Flying Wing who both added their weight to the request. Though the Becker Homers were readily available in South Africa and were not expensive, nothing was forthcoming because bids for these instruments had not been included in the squadron’s annual returns. Because of this, I got myself into a near-fatal situation.

  I was at Thornhill participating in a School of Infantry exercise code-named ‘Happy Wanderer’ when, just after dinner one evening, I recei
ved instructions to get to Binga at first light with three MAG machine-guns and a large supply of ammunition and mortar bombs. A terrorist crossing of Lake Kariba had been detected and Army troops were on follow-up. A FASOC (Forward Air Support Operations Centre), two helicopters and two Provosts were already at Binga.

  My technician Ewett Sorrell and I loaded the aircraft before I contacted Thornhill’s Meteorological Officer who forecast an eight-knot headwind at 8,500 feet, which was my intended cruise altitude. We went off to bed at around 20:30. When we lifted off at 03:00 I took the precaution of making a run down the centre-line of the tarmac runway 31 to check that my directional indicator had been set correctly from the tiny, difficult-to-read, P2 magnetic compass. Coincidentally, the runway direction was the same as the heading to Binga.

  Throughout the climb the haze level was unusually dense. At 8,500 feet haze density was such that it created a fairly distinct though false horizon at about forty degrees above the true horizon. Below the aircraft the night was as black as hell but above the haze line there were stars to help hold heading without continuous reference to instruments. At altitude I sensed that there was strong drift to port but I could not be certain of this because the ground was not visible to conscious sight. The sensation bothered me so much that I asked Ewett Sorrell if he was sensing the same thing. He said he was not.

  At about eighty nautical miles, based on time, I picked up the faint greyish white ribbon of a riverbed that ran along track for a while then broke sharply left and was lost in the black. I took this to be the distinctive bend on the Gwelo River. This placed me on track and a little ahead on time. Despite the river check, the sensation of drift persisted. At about the halfway point a bush fire came up on our right side but it was impossible to establish the direction the smoke was blowing because the haze only allowed light from the circular line of flame to show through.