Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

by Peter Petter-Bowyer

  At Centenary I was awakened at 02:00. It was normal practice to have two Provosts on immediate standby loaded with eight 4-inch para-illuminating flares to respond to CT attacks on farmsteads, so two of us scrambled to light up the route along which the CTs were taking the abductees.

  My intimate knowledge of the route from St Albert’s Mission to the base of the escarpment near Gutsa paid off. On the basis of the time that had elapsed, approximately seven hours, it seemed that a slow-moving party should be close to the valley floor. Though the night was black, there was sufficient starlight for the people on the ground to grope their way down the steep pathway.

  Commencing a run from the mission, my first 600,000-candlepower illuminating flare was released on heading and time. Below my aircraft the flare, descending slowly on its parachute, created a pool of white light that reflected strongly off the haze. This made visual contact with ground impossible. After about five minutes’ flare burnout, which was preceded by bits of burning pyrotechnic compound falling free from the flare, signalling the second aircraft to drop his first flare. By standing off to one side and flying lower than the flare, I could see ground sufficiently to see the escarpment base and positively identify a well-defined ridge down which I knew the pathway ran. For forty continuous minutes we kept this area illuminated.

  Later we learned that the flares had been directly above the CTs and their abductees. Initial reaction had caused sufficient panic and confusion for a number of children and one teacher to make good their escape and return to the mission. However, aided by the flares, the CTs regained control of those remaining and, knowing SF follow-up would come at first light, they split into two groups. In retrospect we realised that we should have ceased illuminating ground after ten minutes, in which case more abductees might have escaped under cover of darkness.

  Upon reaching the valley floor, ten CTs took the adults off in one direction and seven CTs took the children along their normal infiltration route running alongside the Musengezi River. An RLI follow-up resulted in contact with the latter group. However, the troops were faced with a dilemma when the CTs used the abductees as human shields and opened fire from behind them. To mask a bit of fancy soldiering aimed at wresting advantage from the CTs via their left flank, half of the troops returned heavy fire deliberately aiming high above the terrified youngsters.

  The children realised what was happening when the flanking troops opened fire and most managed to escape by running straight for the RLI troops. One mortally wounded CT was screaming loudly which added to the general confusion of gunfire and movement that persisted until the six CTs had made good their escape, but without any abductees. Had the RLI not been forced to avoid hitting any child, those six CTs would not have survived.

  At this point the troops and Father Clemence Freymer gathered the children together and calmed them preparatory to their helicopter flight back to the mission. But valuable time had been lost before RLI learned of the second group with the adults.

  All day I searched well ahead of a slow-moving tracker group but apart from seeing fragments of an ill-defined trail in the dry conditions, I could not spot a soul. This was frustrating and, at the time, I had no way of knowing that I had been instrumental in helping another thirty-three abductees escape. Those that returned to the mission said my aircraft had been directly above them on a number of occasions during the day. Whenever the aircraft came close, everyone was ordered to take cover and remain dead still. The lucky ones had remained in cover when the CTs ordered resumption of the march. The escapees told of terrible beatings for those who were discovered in their hiding places. Thanks to relentless pressure on the CT abductors, three of their numbers were killed and all of their abductees were eventually saved. In spite of failing on this particular occasion, ZANLA continued recruiting by force.

  Pseudo-terrorist beginnings

  AS EARLY AS THE LATE 1960s the Army Commander, Major-General Keith Coster, had given his support to ideas generated by Assistant Commissioner ‘Oppie’ Oppenheim of the BSAP. This was to develop pseudo-terrorist teams (not to be confused with SB plants into terrorist organisations). Selected Army, Police and SB personnel involved themselves in extensive trials but the exercise was shelved following incorrect assumptions and because their anti-terrorist plans did not suit the times. By 1973, however, changes in CT modus operandi suited pseudo-terrorist operations perfectly.

  The only good to have come out of the early pseudo-terrorist trials was the development of the Tracker-Combat team concept. The first commander of the Territorial Army’s Tracker-Combat School was Lieutenant Alan Savory, a politician, noted ecologist and master in bushcraft. Later his school was expanded to train regular Army personnel including the SAS and RAR, hence their availability as early as Op Nickel. African game-trackers were still being used extensively by the RLI during Op Cauldron.

  Arising from his experiences in Malaya, Colonel John Hickman favoured pseudo-terrorist operations but his ideas differed from existing plans to draw all pseudo operators from SF personnel. John believed in ‘turning’ captured terrorists and inducting them into service under direction of regular personnel trained in pseudo ops. At that time, however, it was considered that all captured terrorists should be hanged, or at least receive life sentences. Any thought of integrating them with the regular Army was rejected out of hand. So John Hickman had to wait until he became the Brigadier Commanding JOC Hurricane before he could implement his own theory; and this turned out to be very successful.

  John had the reputation of possessing the finest military brain in the Rhodesian Army and his flexibility and tactical thinking adapted quickly to every change in enemy strategy and tactics. I had witnessed his flexible approach during Op Excess when he persuaded Major Rob Southey to let me try my hand at moving Dumpy Pearce forward on an old trail.

  Realising the time was right to put his pseudo ops theories into practice, the brigadier set up a secret ‘safe house’ from which his first small pseudo team prepared to emulate ZANLA gangs. The intention was to pose as ZANLA to gain the necessary intelligence that would facilitate destruction of whole ZANLA groups by regular forces. First to be co-opted were two SAS master trackers who also spoke Shona fluently. They were Sergeants André Rabie and ‘Stretch’ Franklin. From the RLI the brigadier brought in Sergeant Peter Clementshaw and from RAR he selected three African soldiers. To this group was added a captured ZANLA terrorist who had been ‘turned’.

  By nature the African people of Rhodesia were gentle folk until subjected to the lies, false promises and other propaganda output of power-seeking individuals, who themselves had been duped by communists. The term ‘turned’ simply meant that an individual terrorist had been returned back to his original state and would willingly serve the Rhodesian cause.

  Prior to deploying as pseudo CTs, the group was briefed in detail by Peter Stanton on the all-important ‘does and don’ts’ in their contacts with the African population. ZANLA, acting on the advice of their Chinese instructors, had adopted procedures by which the locals could recognise authentic ZANLA personnel or spot aliens purporting to be ZANLA ‘comrades’. In early times ZANLA told the people what their men would eat and what would be left uneaten to prove their authenticity. Peter Stanton made sure he was always up to date with the latest feeding details by making this his first priority when interrogating captured terrorists. Other SB interrogators did likewise, though they were unaware of the reasons Peter kept pressing for such apparently mundane information.

  Right from the start the locals were easily misled by the white pseudo operators who came to them in the black of night with blackened faces and arms. But it was worrying to be welcomed with open arms with not a word of their presence ever passing to the authorities.

  Sadly, André Rabie was accidentally killed when the RLI, responding to André’s call to action, misidentified him as a terrorist. On close inspection of the body the RLI were greatly distressed when they realised that they had killed a white man and eve
n more so when they recognised André. Somehow André had passed an incorrect grid reference that led to the tragedy. Nevertheless sufficient success and experience had been gained to satisfy Brigadier Hickman that there was need to expand pseudo operations.

  By October 1973 ground intelligence had virtually dried up; most available information was of an historic nature and of little use for military planning. The need to extend pseudo operations to generate up-to-the-minute information on the actual location of terrorist groups had been left rather too late and this brought the Army Commander directly into the picture. Major-General Peter Walls recalled Major Ron Reid-Daly from his leave pending retirement from the Army. The General invited Ron to remain in service to form and command a new regiment that would prepare for and conduct pseudo operations. The unit was to be named ‘Selous Scouts’.

  The nature of the new regiment’s task was camouflaged by making it appear to be a specialised tracking establishment. For ages very few people knew of the Selous Scouts’ real purpose. This was to develop and control many teams of pseudo-terrorist operators whose job it was to infiltrate ZANLA and ZIPRA with a view to eliminating terrorist groups and breaking up their organised structures. Ron Reid-Daly succeeded in creating his regiment in spite of untold obstacles that were placed in his way. His problems were almost entirely due to the fact that the Army HQ officers from whom he sought co-operation were totally in the dark on Ron’s ‘real’ task.

  When eventually he moved his ever-growing Selous Scouts’ operational forces to their newly built battalion headquarters at Inkomo, Ron named it ‘André Rabie Barracks’ in memory of a fine soldier who had been the first of many pseudo operators to die in action.

  Night-strike trials

  ARMY HQ, RESPONDING TO CALLS from officers in the field, asked the Air Force to look into the possibilities of providing ground forces fire support at night by helicopters and Provosts. Air HQ expressed reservations but tasked me to conduct night trials for GAC strikes with guns and rockets. Using Provost 3605, the only aircraft fitted with four .303 machine-guns, I flew the trial, accompanied by Major Mike Shute of the School of Infantry.

  Bright ground flares were used by an Army GAC callsign to mark FLOT. A level pass was made to see if the ground was visible. It seemed fine so I decided to try a live attack with a very early pullout. At the commencement of the dive from 1,500 feet I could see the ground around the flares, but as soon as I opened fire, tracer rounds streaming from both wings towards ground burned so brightly that only the ground flares remained visible. I pulled out at what I judged to be more than 500 feet above ground. However, the Kutanga Range Safety Officer gave me a low warning saying that I had cleared the ground by no more than a few feet.

  On the second attack I was certain that I had pulled out much earlier than the first time only to be told that I had been so low that my navigation lights had disappeared from view in a shallow depression beyond the FLOT flares. I thought the RSO was having me on until the Army officer conducting the GAC confirmed how close we had come to death. There was no question of continuing this dangerous trial so I headed for base, much to Mike Shute’s relief. My report to Air HQ advised against any night attack involving a dive profile as this would certainly result in disaster. Nevertheless, Army pushed for further trials, this time using Canberras in level flight.

  Army field officers suggested that two or more machine-guns firing tracer rounds from different directions at the centre of a target should give a bomb-aimer a perfect aiming point. Again there was scepticism but the concept had to be tried. I was involved again, this time to assess the visible effects of marking with tracer before committing a Canberra to the test. Flying at height I watched two guns firing with a convergence angle of little more than fifteen degrees. The crossover point was clear-cut and would be easy for the Canberra bomb-aimer to see. However, a Canberra’s bombing run is very long when measured against the time machine-guns could provide continuous fire. There was a need, therefore, for many very short bursts to be fired simultaneously to ensure Canberra line-up, and a long burst for final aiming. So we put this to the test.

  Repeatedly the Canberra ran in, but the gunners on the ground could not synchronise their firing during run-up, and both ran out of ammunition at the critical moment on each of a number of runs. It was obvious that, since this system could not be made to work in clinical conditions at Kutanga Range, there was no point in expecting better results in the field. In time to come an altogether better solution was found, as will be revealed later.

  Pre-selection of Air Force commanders

  FLIGHT LIEUTENANT MICK MCLAREN HAD been my first flying instructor in 1957 and I had served under him in 1969- 1970 when he was Chairman of the Joint Planning Staff in the rank of group captain. His meteoric rise brought him to be the Commander of the Rhodesian Air Force in 1973 in the rank air marshal.

  There were no doubts in the minds of most officers that Mick was the right man for the job because he had proved himself in every way. However, the discontent of one or two superseded senior officers reached political ears. For reasons I do not know, the politicians decreed that no such accelerated promotion should occur in the future and that Air HQ must pre-select officers to be groomed for the top Air Force post.

  Frank Mussell was the obvious man to succeed Mick McLaren when he retired in 1977. For the term commencing 1981, Keith Corrans and Tol Janeke were earmarked as running mates and were immediately promoted to wing commander. This politically induced situation proved to be a bad move because it had forced Air HQ to pre-judge individual standings eight years ahead of time, and this had the effect of limiting the prospects of many officers who might have aspired to positions that now seemed blocked. Keith and Tol were both fine men but we could not understand how either one of them could have been selected ahead of Norman Walsh. Anyway, this early selection failed because Keith and Tol both took early retirement and Norman became Commander in 1981 in circumstances that couldn’t have been foreseen in 1973.

  Night ops diffculties

  MY EXPERIENCE ON HELICOPTERS HAD highlighted the dangers of flying on dark nights. This was largely due to the helicopter’s inherent instability, but following Guy Munton-Jackson’s death, helicopter pilots were forbidden to fly unless there was a clearly defined horizon. For slow fixed-wing pilots who continued to operate at night in all conditions, save for low cloud and storms at destination airfields, dark nights presented very real difficulties.

  Most readers will have flown many hours in airliners and may wonder what is so difficult about flying at night. Many scheduled departures and arrivals occur at night in marginal weather conditions, so where are the problems? Well, it is all a matter of instrumentation, flying aids, navigational aids and a second pilot to monitor and assist his captain at every stage of flight. These are all routinely available in all airliners that operate in and out of fully equipped airports having qualified air-traffic and radar controllers.

  Although we were equipped with standard flight instrumentation, it was necessary to physically control an aircraft every second it was airborne. There were no such luxuries as autopilot, a second pilot, aids to pinpoint one’s position or to guide one in for a safe landing. The airfields into which we operated had no let-down aids of any description. Very often, when cloud cover necessitated flying above minimum safe altitude to clear all high ground, our best assistance came from men on the ground saying something like, “We can hear you to our northeast.”

  Once guided to approximately overhead it was a matter of entering into a gentle descending turn hoping to break cloud close to the airfield before reaching minimum safety height. Over flat sections of the Zambezi Valley this was not too bad, but in mountainous terrain immense tensions built up in one’s mind and body before breaking out below cloud and seeing one’s destination.

  With no aids to assist navigation and let-down in remote areas I, like most pilots, often wondered how I could have let myself in for such a hazardous occupation. On these oc
casions I longed for the safety of jet flying which always brought one back to a major airfield with all aids, including radar. But, being stuck with the problem, one had to work at remaining calm and reminding oneself that Air Force training had been geared to cater for these frightening situations.

  Even when the destination airfield, other than Air Force FAFs, had been located, danger existed because pilots were forced to rely on soldiers, policemen and civilians to mark the runway. I will say more about this subject later.

  Flying Provosts was always less trying that flying Trojans in identical situations. The Provost felt sturdy, it had ample power to cater for the unexpected and responded well to throttle and flight controls. Wearing a parachute also gave some comfort if everything went pear-shaped. On the other hand, the Trojan could be a real bitch, particularly when laden and there was no alternative but to stay with the beast, no matter what happened.

  Trojan characteristics

  THANKS TO SUPERB TECHNICIANS AND the excellent training given to its pilots, the Trojan did a marvellous job despite its limitations. All the same, this aircraft’s unusual characteristics often took one by surprise by day as well as night.