Since we had an uneven number of Trojans, I paired up with Al Bruce who was flying a SAAF Cessna 185. Three of these aircraft had recently been delivered on long-term loan to 4 Squadron. We had planned for Chris and me to do conversions onto this aircraft because it afforded much better visual freedom for recce than the Trojan. However Op Marble interrupted our plans and Al, having done his conversion, came to lend a hand.
4 Squadron were now operating three aircraft types. Bottom to top: Provost, Trojan, Cessna.
We passed a formation of four helicopters going in the opposite direction along the southern boundary of our search area. Their decision to use four aircraft for maximum security was a wise move made possible by their ability to hold open formation in the rough terrain allocated to 7 Squadron. At 10:00 Red Section, a pair of Hunters flown by Ricky Culpan and Vic Wightman, was flying wide line-abreast at 500 feet past a high feature on their right side when a Strela missile was fired. Part of Vic Wightman’s ASR read:
The missile had already passed No 2 when the report was made and a break starboard called. Leader then positioned and carried out a guns attack on the top of the hill, marked clearly by the smoke of the missile. This was approx. 30 secs after the missile had been fired. No 2 reversed his turn to position for a rocket attack on the hill. Leader repositioned for rockets and further gun attacks covering the hill and its surrounds. The section then climbed to height and reported the incident and position to Nova Mague before setting course for New Sarum.
Had that missile been fired at a slower aircraft the result would have been fatal. So, at 17:00 on the same day I led a strike by four Hunters on a base twelve kilometres to the southeast of were the Strela had been fired. Ricky Culpan and Vic Wightman were striking for the second time on this day led by Rob Gaunt with Don Northcroft flying No 4. The strike was made with a view to dissuading FRELIMO from firing at any searching aircraft.
It was getting dark when I decided it was my duty as OC 4 Squadron to get back to see Ellie Weinmann at Thornhill and Rob Durrett’s parents in Bulawayo. Although I was certain in my mind that both airmen were dead, I used the long night flight to conjure up suitable words of encouragement for the families. Eventually I came to the conclusion that no such words existed and that I would have to play things by ear when the time came. At Thornhill Ellie Weinmann, already receiving encouragement and support from Beryl and other squadron wives, had no doubts that Chris was alive and that he would be found soon. I was relieved by this and went home to bed totally exhausted.
Next morning I left early to meet Rob Durrett’s family. I told them that, although we had not given up hope, things did not look good. They were obviously distressed but were grateful that I had taken the time to pay them a personal visit and had not tried to hide realities. I returned to Thornhill and by midday had completed a hurried conversion onto a SAAF Cessna 185 with Captain van der Linde who, after forty-five minutes in the circuit, declared me safe to fly the aircraft. This aircraft was fitted with an SSB radio for long-range communication, which is the reason I needed it in a hurry for improved communications during the search and for Op Marble when it resumed.
En route back to Nova Mague I received an unusual instruction on the SSB radio from Wing Commander Porky MacLaughlin in Air HQ. He asked me to search the Mucanha River line. This river was on the north side of the Zambezi into which it flowed but was outside and to the west of the search area. Porky explained that the Rhodesian Broadcasting Corporation had reported that a Rhodesian Air Force aircraft was missing in the operational area but no mention had been made of Mozambique. Yet two female clairvoyants had voluntarily and individually phoned Air HQ to say they knew where the aircraft could be found and that both airmen were alive. The aircraft was reported to be right next to the Mucanha River itself and not too far from the Zambezi River.
Porky said it was so uncanny that these ladies, acting independently, had identified Mozambique and that both had pointed to the same river. This information could not be ignored, particularly as both women had previously assisted the Police in finding missing persons whose bodies had been located where the Police were told to search.
The Cessna I was flying had an unpainted silver surface making it an even better target for Strela than the camouflaged Trojan. Because of this I elected to search the river-line at low level and take my chances with smallarms fire. I could find nothing even though every tree, bush, nook and cranny had been inspected up and downriver until it became too dark to continue. I saw people on the ground three times but only once did I see a pair of men firing at my unarmed aircraft.
It was completely dark when I reached Nova Mague for my first solo landing in the tail-dragger Cessna 185. This was not the easiest of aircraft to land because of its narrow, undamped, leaf-spring undercarriage; so I was apprehensive about landing without a flare path. The dull lights within the camp helped me assess the position of the threshold and I used my instruments to assess the runway direction. On short finals I switched on the landing lights just in time to see a large tree directly ahead. I lifted over this and a little further on put the aircraft down so smoothly it surprised me.
Two days of intensive searching had yielded nothing and for the next three days the intensity of the search was maintained with as many as sixteen aircraft actually airborne at once. At no time during daylight were there less than six aircraft searching.
Under pressure from the Portuguese to resume Op Marble, Air HQ instructed me to reposition at Estima on 20 April. I was airborne out of Nova Mague flying my Cessna 185 with Chris Dickinson following in a Trojan. At 09:00 I was climbing at low power to allow Chris to hold formation when I heard Greg Todd calling urgently, “Willy where are you? Willy this is Greg. I cannot see you. Willy are you all right?” These calls were to Willy Wilson who had been flying No 2 to Greg.
I called Greg by his correct callsign and asked him what was going on. “Boss PB, I cannot see Willy. I have lost him.” For Greg Todd to call me Boss PB and refer to himself as Greg was reason enough to know he was already a frightened man. “Where are you now Greg?” I asked. He told me where, then said, “I can see black smoke along the route we were flying”. Moments later he said, “There’s a ball of white smoke rising from there, I’m sure Willy’s rockets have exploded.” The position Greg was reporting was smack in the centre of the area I had warned Chris Weinmann to be especially wary of and where he had said he was onto something big. Immediately I instructed Greg to move south and take cover behind a high feature whilst I moved over to him. As I flew there I requested Nova Mague to recall the helicopters and prepare to move troops. The smoke rising from Willy’s crash site was faint but obvious. I could see where Greg and Willy had passed over the south-to-north spur of a high dogleg ridge-line that turned ninety degrees westward into higher ground. I had come to know this particular feature well during earlier recces. From the south leg the pilots had descended to flatter terrain where the smoke was rising.
In the dogleg bend of the ridge there ran a number of steep ravines that merged into a small river with surface water. FRELIMO had favoured this river for its bases, particularly in the dry season, so I called for jets. Greg and Chris linked up and held south whilst I climbed to 15,000 feet before moving up to the river and ridge-line. Immediately I saw the huge base that Chris Weinmann had obviously found under heavy cover astride the river at the base of the dogleg.
This was the sixth day of the search, which meant that Trojans and Provosts must have traversed this spot at least six times, yet no pilot had spotted the base. Presumably this was because of the density of trees and the fact that they were either climbing or descending the very steep ridge when they passed over it. From my lofty height it was easier to see the telltale sections of pathways and two particular paths leading steeply to worn patches on two small ledges between ravines high above the base; perfect anti-aircraft sites.
A pair of Hunters flown by Don Northcroft and Paddy Bates checked in with me before the helicopters reac
hed the area. Bearing in mind that A4 (Alpha 4) was my callsign and K4 was Chris Dickinson’s, this is what Don Northcroft recorded in his Air Strike Report:
1. We were ordered by SDO New Sarum to go direct to the search area and were provided a grid reference. RPs were not carried, as a recce task was expected.
2. En route Air Det Mague advised that A4 would be directing our attacks.
3. A4 advised that he had no weapons but that K4 would mark for him. We were to attack a ter. camp in the vicinity of the crashed Trojan so that helicopters and troops could land in the area.
4. Some difficulty was experienced in locating K4 so A4 gave a heading to steer from a prominent feature. K4 was then sighted and he marked soon after.
5. Red section was redirected from the mark to a ravine 1200 yards east. It is thought that only the 5th and 3rd attacks were the strikes on target as there were several ravines in the area which made redirection and recognition very difficult.
6. Red section cleared for New Sarum after expending all 30mm.
This had been an unusually scruffy strike because Chris marked too far southwest of target. Nevertheless with Chris Dickinson and Greg Todd holding top cover, the helicopters put the troops down at the crash site without incident.
Willy Wilson and his accompanying technician, Flight Sergeant Roger Andrews, were found dead. The troops said Willy had crawled some distance from the aircraft before he was killed when one pod of rockets detonated. They also reported that a Strela missile had exploded smack bang on the engine exhaust. There was no doubt that this had been a Strela strike and that Chris Weinmann’s aircraft would be found somewhere fairly close by.
Any thought of continuing to Estima for Op Marble was dropped. Instead I returned to Nova Mague where a group of men stood silent around the bodies that had just been brought in from the crash site. Each one of those 7 Squadron’s crews present had served on 4 Squadron and they felt just as keenly for these downed men as the men still serving on my squadron. I addressed them but cannot recall what I said, other than that Chris Weinmann and Rob Durrett had obviously suffered the same fate and would be found by the troops within hours. More troops were flown in and the air search was terminated in favour of an RLI ground search. I returned to Thornhill to see Roger Andrew’s widow, Muriel, then continued on to Victoria Falls to see Willy Wilson’s folks.
The next day troops found the engineless Trojan hanging by its tail in a large tree on the south side of the base Chris had discovered. The engine had been blown from its mountings by a Strela missile that had obviously entered next to the exhaust pipe and exploded between firewall and engine. The engine and its propeller were never found. The firewall was no more than a few inches above the ground and both doors lay open against the ground. Shallow graves next to each open door contained the maggot-infested bodies of the airmen.
Six men dead and three aircraft lost in sixteen days ended a very sad period for the Air Force. What made it all so much worse was the unexpected revolutionary change of government in Portugal following a left-wing military coup on 25 April. All in all April 1974 had been a very ‘black month’ for Rhodesia. Op Marble, due to resume on 26 April, seemed to have been a total waste of time and had cost us four dead plus the loss of two valuable Trojans. Its resumption was called off which, on a lighter note, cost me eleven bottles of Antiqua, unclaimed from the brigadier.
For ages I found difficulty in coming to terms with the fact that Chris and Willy had been taken out by Strela and that I, having spent so much more time over Mozambique and having deliberately operated the areas I considered most dangerous, was still alive. There were no simple answers; it was just a matter of getting on with the job in the knowledge that the war was about to intensify and that many dangers still lay ahead.
Chris Weinmann had been a great water-polo player and always wore around his neck a water-polo medallion inscribed with his name. In 1980, whilst serving as the Rhodesian Security Forces Ceasefire Commissioner, I was introduced to a FRELIMO officer at Nyamasoto. Not only was he wearing Chris’s medallion, he wanted to let everyone around know that he was the man who had fired both the Strela missiles that had downed our two Trojans. He said that he had been celebrating his first Strela success and was too drunk to fire at the aircraft he had seen flying overhead that night. How it came to be I cannot say, but he knew I was the pilot of that aircraft. Strangely enough I was not at all put out by his boastfulness. Times had changed too much to make the matter seem important.
Hunter commanders
THE OFFICER WHO BLEW UP a lavatory bowl, Mike Saunders made an excellent squadron commander because of his natural abilities and a very naughty nature. When making his last flight as OC of Hunters, he showed his displeasure at being replaced by Norman Walsh in the manner expected of him. He made a low-level supersonic pass over the airfield that resulted in cracked windows in a number of buildings.
Norman Walsh though outwardly quiet, was probably the naughtiest of all 1 Squadron commanders but he took his job very seriously and became a main player in Air Force affairs, as will be seen later in this book.
Rob Gaunt had been an excellent leader and I remember him best for his incredible anticipation and precision in FAC-led strikes. Rich Brand followed Rob in 1974 and Vic Wightman replaced Rich in mid-1978. As with all our squadron commanders, they were vastly different characters in all respects, but they were all great pilots.
Mike Saunders
Norman Walsh
Rob Gaunt
Rich Brand
Rob Gaunt spent some time in Air HQ before leaving the force to enter into politics. Mentally gifted, he followed in the footsteps of his father, John Gaunt, who had been an outspoken politician in Federal times and again as a minister in the first Rhodesian Front Government. Rob was still a member of the Rhodesian Front party after Robert Mugabe’s ZANU party came to power, by which time he had put on a great deal of weight. Rob had the unusual knack of criticising black ZANU politicians without really upsetting them. On one occasion, when ZANU was giving ZAPU’s immensely fat Joshua Nkomo a particularly hard time, Rob leapt to his feet and looking directly at Nkomo said, “Honourable Minister, you have no need to concern yourself with what you are hearing because I can assure you and all the honourable members present that you and I carry a lot of weight in this House!”
Rich Brand was the grandson of the famous Sir Quintin Brand who, together with Pierre van Reyneveld, made history in March 1920 by flying the Vickers Vimy bomber ‘Silver Queen’ from Britain to Cape Town. Rich was a quiet man, something of a loner that, in Air Force circles, made him appear to be at odds with most pilots. He spent much of his spare time building and flying radio-controlled model aerobatic aircraft. His talents here and his ability to deliver weapons with great accuracy were well known to all—but nobody ever recognised the huge potential that lay dormant within the man.
He left the Air Force in 1980 and moved to the USA where he was associated with an American tycoon who had an interest in building and flying model aircraft. Amongst other things, this tycoon owned a large hotel and casino in Las Vegas. When one day he asked Rich what he had in mind for his own future, Rich said, “I want to start at the bottom of your Las Vegas enterprise and work my way up until I head it.” Without further ado Rich was given the broom and mop brigade. He progressed rapidly through every position rising through management of the gambling halls, the hotel and finally becoming Managing Director of the entire Circus Circus enterprise. He endeared himself to every member of the enormous staff who he greeted personally by first name. Rich Brand, the quiet person in Rhodesian Air Force days, turned out to be a much-revered multi-millionaire in a niche none of us would have believed possible.
Vic Wightman was an eccentric who would not allow his family to use salt in any food. He had three hates. These were Americans, dogs and insurance agents. His worst fear was to be visited by an American insurance agent with a dog. Vic was an excellent squadron commander and strike pilot whose name comes
up often in this book. When Vic left the force he ended up flying a Lear Jet out of Nelspruit in South Africa on cloud-seeding and other weather-related work. He started his day there by walking barefoot from home to work over a forested hill to enjoy the bush and the local wildlife. He remained without shoes when flying his executive jet and sometimes astounded his bosses in Johannesburg by emerging barefoot from his aircraft to attend company meetings. In addition to one already covered, some of Vic’s experiences will be revealed later.
Vic Wightman with Ginger Baldwin behind.
Army claims air kills
4 SQUADRON PROVOSTS WERE BECOMING MORE and more involved with internal strikes whether operating in conjunction with helicopters, being called to assist ground forces or acting against targets located during visual recce by other 4 Squadron pilots.
All 4 Squadron pilots were great operators but one junior pilot was already emerging as a star performer. Almost every action involving Air Sub-Lieutenant ‘Cocky’ Benecke with the callsign Juliet 4 turned to success. This had much to do with his amazing eyesight, as will be seen.
Brian Murdoch (E4), Cocky Benecke (J4) and Kevin Peinke (R4), all flying Provost, were involved in an action inside Rhodesia on 18 April when others of 4 Squadron were still tied up with the air search in Mozambique. Selous Scouts operator Mick Hardy and his pseudo terrorist group had initiated this widespread running action.
Mick had been successful in locating three bases that one particularly large ZANLA group used in random rotation. Mick’s problem was that he could not tell which of the bases was occupied at any given time. His Officer Commanding, Ron Reid-Daly, went to JOC Hurricane at Bindura to arrange for the grouping of all available helicopters and troops to move in behind simultaneous air strikes on all three bases. Unfortunately there was some confusion and the terrorists survived.
Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot Page 56
