Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

by Peter Petter-Bowyer

  ZAPU’s Russian advisers had obviously studied our Border Control coverage and techniques and had selected the Batoka Gorge as being the last place we would expect a crossing to occur. Employing a system of ropes, pulleys and two rubber dinghies, men and equipment were ferried from north to south bank on and above the raging water.

  The process started at sunset and was completed before dawn. The group rested up on the south bank until late afternoon then commenced the difficult climb up to the high ground. Avoiding all habitation, the group bypassed Wankie town then turned south to intercept the railway line. Terrorist presence was first reported from Matetsi Mission but the report gave no indication of numbers.

  We were to learn that one third of the force comprised ZAPU men with the balance being South African ANC terrorists. There was significance in this, the largest crossing to date. It had been jointly planned and launched by James Chikerema who was deputy to ZAPU’s leader and Oliver Tambo, the external leader of the SAANC. (ZAPU’s leader, Joshua Nkomo, was in detention in Rhodesia.) A few days after hurriedly launching their joint force, they signed a military alliance that remained in effect throughout the Rhodesian war.

  The force was four times larger than any ZANU group and all its men were substantially better trained. Mistakenly, Chikerema and Tambo considered their joint force to be strong enough to fight off any Rhodesian Security Force (RSF) it might encounter. The force was tasked to establish a safe passage through N’debele territory down the western flank of Rhodesia, right up to the Limpopo River, to give SAANC a permanent route to South Africa.

  The whole group was resting in the shade of heavy riverine bush covering both sides of the small Inyatue River where they encountered surface water for the first time since leaving the Zambezi. Close to their position was the Inyatue railway bridge on the line from Victoria Falls to Bulawayo. Having followed the winter-dry riverbed, the terrorists had passed under the railway bridge before locating the shaded water point three kilometres farther upstream. Here they split the force either side of their entry tracks as a precaution against armed follow-up.

  It was in response to a railway repair party’s report that a mixed tracker-combat group of RAR and Police moved in. Led by Major Peter Hoskins it comprised twenty men, which was considered a strong force at the time. Tracks of many men led the Rhodesians along the river-line up to the railway bridge. The Rhodesians opened into extended line to cross the high railway embankment and continued forward until they encountered thick riverine bush. Concentrating on the bush ahead, they moved with caution until they came under fire at close range. The Rhodesian’s were lucky not to suffer serious casualties immediately.

  When after some time Major Hoskins attempted a flanking movement, Acting Corporal Davison and Private Karomi were killed and the major was wounded. He lay unable to move for something like ten hours before being dragged to safety by his daring Regimental Sergeant-Major, Aubrey Corb. Three separate firefights developed with the terrorists using searching fire on the line of men who, though pinned down, had crawled into cover. With so much fire in an environment of deep shade and brilliant sunlight, where visual penetration into the bush was less than three meters in most places, it proved impossible to detect actual points of enemy fire or judge the terrorist force disposition and strength. What was patently clear was that reinforcements were needed in a hurry.

  Flight Lieutenant Mick Grier with Bob Whyte as his gunner brought these in then expended all their ammunition into the unseen terrorist positions before returned to FAF 1 to refuel and re-arm. A Provost flown by Prop Geldenhuysremained overhead the contact scene until after dark to serve as a radio relay (Telstar) back to Brigade HQ in Wankie. Since Peter Hoskins had been separated from his radio, there was concern for his safety. Before sunset one group of SF had led a lateral skirmish towards other SF with a view to consolidating defence and firepower. During this move, a radio was put out of action by machine-gun fire. Prop received a request for a replacement radio and was able to pick up the position of a white map laid out in an open patch of ground on the right flank where troops with the defunct radio had moved.

  Bob Whyte, son of Group Captain Doug Whyte, had the replacement radio. Having dropped off troops, Mick Grier located the men waiting for the radio. As he landed the helicopter came under heavy fire. Mick lifted away immediately, but Bob Whyte had already leapt out onto the ground where he immediately attracted terrorist fire that forced him to go to ground.

  Lying on his belly in a small depression, Bob realised he was out of the terrorists’ direct view but he could not move. Bob could see the troops who required the radio but he could not get to them. Bob’s quandary was that he had a serviceable radio without an aerial and the troops with a serviceable aerial were just too far away to throw it to him.

  Bob Whyte.

  After some thought Bob reached into his flying overalls for a screwdriver, which he thrust against the radio’s aerial jack point and tried a transmission to Mick Grier watching him helplessly from above. To Bob’s amazement and relief, he received a reply and was able to make further transmissions when called upon to do so. The benefit of having a working radio outweighed the discomfort of receiving a sharp electrical belt down his arm each time he transmitted. With extra troops now available, covering fire was given for the troops to get to Bob.

  The firefight continued until darkness fell but at some stage Inspector Phillips of the BSAP, who had come in with reinforcements, received a bullet wound to his head that would commit him to a wheelchair for life. Any ground movement attracted heavy fire from terrorists who everyone could hear talking Zulu, the same language as N’debele. RSM Aubrey Corb, who had also come in with the reinforcement force, called for but received no answer from Major Hoskins. Everything remained quiet so long as troops stayed in situ. Since movement or sound drew immediate enemy response, Aubrey Corb knew that Peter Hoskins, if still alive, would remain silent unless he was absolutely certain of friendly force positions. At about 22:00 the RSM was on high ground at the edge of the contact site. From this position he fired an Icarus flare knowing that Peter Hoskins would recognise it as having come from an RAR position. Peter recognised the distinctive plume almost directly above him and immediately called from the darkness. During his descent to retrieve the major, Aubrey Corb accidentally discovered seriously wounded Inspector Phillips.

  Apart from the blackness of the night, it was decided that casualty evacuation by Mick Grier in the only available helicopter was too dangerous because its landing light would undoubtedly attract enemy fire; so the alternate option of a motorised rail car was used to reach the remote area. But this involved carrying the casualties three kilometres from the contact area across rough ground on a pitch-black night. Major Hoskins insisted that Inspector Phillips be given the only available stretcher because he considered the policeman’s condition to be more serious than his own. Hoskins himself was in deep trouble having been hit in the upper thigh right next to the femoral artery. He had managed to stuff fabric into the wound to stem the high flow of blood but had lost so much during his long wait that he was barely conscious during his ride on a crude makeshift stretcher.

  At dawn the troops moved cautiously forward only to find that the terrorists had extricated themselves during the night. A sweep through the area revealed five dead terrorists with evidence that others had been wounded. Large quantities of Russian equipment, mislaid during the battle and silent withdrawal, lay scattered over a large area. Notwithstanding the withdrawal, there was no doubting we were involved with a new breed of fighters. The aggression and efficiency shown by ZAPU and SAANC at Inyatue revealed that they were both prepared and able to fight and were unlikely to turn back for Zambia as might be expected from experiences with ZANU. Rather, they would continue in a southerly direction through the Wankie Game Reserve or along its eastern boundary, which was the railway line.

  By 10 am three extra helicopters were available and the trackers had found that the terrorists had not m
ade a completely ordered withdrawal. An initial assessment was that they had become divided in darkness into three separate groups. One large group and a lesser one were heading southwards into the Wankie Game Reserve and a very small group of four had set off south-eastwards along the line of rail. An ambush was established near the railway village at Dett where the four terrorists were killed.

  For two days, trackers cast ahead but were experiencing some difficulty in getting a clear lead on the biggest group because the terrorists had spread out employing anti-tracking techniques as they moved through open savannah terrain. The countryside was bone dry, so surface water had to be the key to locating them.

  With the general southward movement there was need to relocate forces. No 1 Brigade HQ, commanded by Brigadier Godwin with his staff officers Majors ‘Mac’ Willar and ‘Buttons’ Wells-West, moved to Shapi Pan during the course of the next day, 18 August. A FASOC, commanded by Flight Lieutenant Doug Butler, together with large quantities of drummed Avtur, was positioned next to Brigade HQ.

  By the time our four helicopters arrived at Shapi Pans, Lieutenant Ian Wardle and his RAR tracker-combat team had been following spoor of the smaller group estimated to be for fifteen terrorists and twenty-four-hours old. The next morning Ian reported that he was passing Rhino Pens where National Parks nursed sick or hurt rhinos back to health. The terrorists had not seen water since leaving Inyatue and were moving down a line of water pans that were all baked white and bone dry.

  Avtur drums.

  A little later in the day I was returning from a deployment task when Brigadier Godwin requested that I divert to establish Ian’s exact position because he had just reported being two hours behind the terrorists and about to enter a forested area. Having established Ian’s location, I returned to Shapi Pans to refuel. Brigadier Godwin then asked me to return to Ian Wardle with a supply of water because Ian felt certain he was close to making contact.

  I met Ian and his black soldiers in a tiny clearing deep inside the treed area. Everyone was drenched in sweat and, having filled water bottles and quenched their thirst, delighted in pouring cold water over their already soaking wet bodies. Watching these men made me wondered how the terrorists were faring having had no water since leaving Inyatue. Filthy dirty, unshaven and bubbling with enthusiasm, Ian said he would make contact in less than two hours and moved off at the head of his men. They were all out of sight before I had chance to wind up and lift off.

  No sooner had we refuelled at Shapi Pans and settled down for a cup of tea when Buttons Wells-West ran over to say, “Get airborne chop, chop, Wardle called ‘contact’ on his HF radio. We heard heavy firing during the transmission but have heard nothing since and cannot raise him. Please get over there and find out what is happening.”

  As I headed back with Bob Whyte, who I had taken on as my technician, I attempted, unsuccessfully, to raise Ian. We noticed heavy smoke rising from the bush way ahead and realised this was close to where we had last seen Ian. Even before we arrived overhead we saw that the fire was racing outwards spewing heavy black smoke. Already many hawks were heading towards it to feast on insects disturbed by the fire. Again and again I called but there was no response.

  We had started an orbit over the already burnt-out area of the forest before a deep breathing and obviously excited Ian Wardle answered. I told him we had been very worried having heard nothing since his ‘contact’ call. “Hell, no sweat. We have killed most of the bastards but we think a few got away. It is safe here now. Come on down and take a look. I will have a couple of my men watch the chopper.”

  I passed on the good news to Brigade and found a bigenough gap in the trees close to where I saw Ian waving his map. The whole area was burnt out so the helicopter had to be placed on the ground very smartly to limit the swirl of black ash thrown up by rotor-wash. Ian and his men were black from head to toe. The whiteness of eyes and teeth and the pinkness of mouths surrounded by matt-black faces emphasised their huge grins. These were very happy guys who had come through a very noisy though short-lived experience. Ian couldn’t wait to take us, step by step, through every action.

  After their water break, the refreshed troops advanced in an echelon formation either side of trackers moving in heavy shade under high trees. Ian was next to the lead tracker when he detected movement under the trunk of a tree that had been pushed over by elephants. His eyes immediately focused on the unmistakable outline of the barrel and bipod of a Russian RPD machine-gun. He opened fire instinctively. The whole callsign joined in as terrorist movements were picked up over an area of no more than thirty meters square, centred on the point where Ian concentrated his fire. Suddenly, from this spot, a double explosion rocked the area and initiated a bush fire.

  Retaliation from the terrorists was limited in the face of RAR’s overwhelming firepower and most terrorists died immediately. When firing stopped the force swept cautiously forward. Moaning was heard before it turned to screams as one terrorist, his cloths on fire, emerged from behind another fallen tree. Ian dropped him with one shot and the sweep continued right through the area. When certain that there were no live terrorists around, Ian gathered his men for a site debrief. The men who had been on Ian’s right during the firefight had spotted eight terrorists breaking as a group. They knew they had accounted for three, which Ian found lying some distance from the main group of eight dead men, but five had escaped.

  Ian was preparing to continue with the follow-up on the survivors when Brigadier Godwin ordered him to prepare for uplift. A Provost pilot had reported the huge extent of the fire and it had been decided to deploy fresh troops ahead of the survivors who had headed off in a southerly direction, probably running ahead of the fast moving bush fire.

  Ian had pushed his men almost ninety kilometres in less than forty-eight hours so, although Ian himself was disappointed at being pulled off, his men deserved a break after a job well done. In the Brigade Officers’ Mess marquee that evening the brigadier invited Ian to recount events for the assembled RAR and Air Force officers. Like many of our Army officers, Ian Wardle’s speech was somewhat affected but his briefing was graphic and amusing. About the burning terrorist incident, he said, “The man was screaming, burning and making a general nuisance of himself, so I shot him.”

  Wounded Major Hoskins’ E Company of RAR was taken over by Major Ray Howden who, together with A Company under Major Taffy Marchant, established a forward base at Limpandi Dam near the southwestern corner of the game reserve. Murray Hofmeyr was attached to this base to facilitate troop deployments for operations along the Gwabazobuya River and the Botswanan border that formed a funnel through which the main terrorist group was expected to pass. From Shapi Pans two tracker combat units were deployed to locate and neutralise the five terrorists who had survived Ian Wardle’s contact.

  Out of the blue a South African Police (SAP) Alouette III helicopter arrived at Shapi Pans. The first thing I noticed about the SAP helicopter was that it was fitted with a Becker Homer, which we had not yet received. The South African Air Force pilot, Lieutenant ‘Weasel’ Wesley, was seconded to SAP to fly Police-owned helicopters. He told us that he had been sent from Katimo Mulilo in South West Africa and that additional SAP helicopters were to follow. This was because of South African ANC terrorists being involved with ZAPU.

  For two days after Ian Wardle’s contact, things were quiet at Shapi Pans, so I took opportunity to visit Paul Grobelaar’s large mobile processing factory that handled all elephant and buffalo carcasses from a game-culling operation that was in progress in the Wankie Game Reserve. This unpleasant periodic slaughter of animals was necessary to control population growth but it needed Paul’s support to ensure that no destroyed animal was wasted and that everything was put to good use.

  Paul had a small Cessna 140, which he flew to locate small herds of around twenty elephants. Two game-rangers were then directed to the selected herd. They walked in from downwind to get right in amongst the herd before shooting the babies first as t
his had the effect of stopping the adults from running off. Taking out the adults necessitated fast shooting and rocksteady nerves whilst the great brutes were rushing around screaming in angry panic, often charging the men. Because of their marksmanship and knowledge of vital points from every angle, it was almost unheard of for a ranger to have to use a second shot to finish off a wounded jumbo. They really hated the task but insisted on doing the culling themselves. Because they loved the animals so much, they refused to leave it to other hunters. They dared not fail to eliminate every member of the selected group because any elephant escaping the slaughter would certainly induce panic in neighbouring herds.

  Two baby jumbos that had been orphaned by ivory poachers roamed around the camp at Shapi Pans. They loved people and were a bit of a nuisance. Though small in elephant terms, they were amazingly powerful and would push one around seeking to be fed and scratched. Their interest in helicopters was a bit of a worry, but apart from leaving snotty marks on the vision panels they did no damage. Years later, in 1982, I saw these same two elephants. By then they were almost full grown at Ozzie Bristow’s Lion and Cheetah Park near Harare (new name for Salisbury).

  I had known and feared Willie de Beer from school cadet camp days at Inkomo Barracks where he was Regimental Sergeant-Major. Now retired from the Army and serving as a ranger with National Parks, Willie offered to take me on a buffalo-culling operation that, because of Op Nickel, was being done by day. Buffalo were normally culled at night using powerful searchlights in specially designed vehicles. The one we used had 40mm holes in its metal sides, showing how dangerous a buffalo bull’s horns could be.