Winds of Destruction

by Peter John Hornby Petter-Bowyer

  P. K. VAN DER BYL WAS a very colourful, eccentric minister in Ian Smith’s Rhodesian Front Cabinet. Of South African aristocratic stock, he spoke with a very affected nasal accent in a style somewhat akin to Eton graduates. He did not wear underpants and dressed ‘to the left’ in a manner that confirmed his reputation for being well endowed.

  Following the Vampire strikes against Hedebe’s group, PK decided to visit the site. He was not really known to the men in the field at that time and his arrival at Karoi for his helicopter flight to site was quite an eye-opener because his dress was so appalling. Below his Australian bush hat he wore a pink shirt with bright-blue tie, khaki shorts with black belt, short blue socks and vellies. On return to Salisbury he appeared on national television properly attired in suit and tie. Speaking of his visit to the airstrike site and making grand gestures with his hands he told of seeing “Blood, blood everywhere!” In fact we knew the red fluid splattered about the area was mopani sap oozing from shrapnel wounds to the trees.

  When the RLI and SAS got to know him better, PK became very popular with the soldiers. His ridiculous accent appealed to them just as much as his strange dress. He often requested to be taken on patrol so he could “shoot a terrorist” but asked that care be taken not to get him “lawst”.

  After one of his many field visits, he was flown back to Salisbury in a helicopter piloted by Peter Simmonds. Contrary to orders given Peter to take the minister to New Sarum, PK ordered Peter to drop him off where his servants would be awaiting him close to his home. When the helicopter landed in Salisbury Botanical Gardens, right next to the main road during rush hour, all vehicles came to a halt to watch the unbelievable sight of ‘white-hunter PK’, with elephant gun over shoulder, leading white-clad servants carrying baggage on heads.

  After he became better known to the Air Force, he arrived by air at Thornhill to attend some official function or another in Gwelo. Station Commander Group Captain Ken Edwards offered the minister lunch in the Officers’ Mess after his official function was over. PK said he had an awful headache and declined the offer. However, when he returned to Thornhill, he told Ken that he had changed his mind and would love to take up the earlier offer of lunch before flying back to Salisbury. Not surprisingly the caterers were in a bit of a tizzy for receiving such late notice but, as always, they presented a superb meal.

  There were many officers and wives enjoying a Saturday lunchtime drink in the Grog Spot when John Digby walked in wearing P. K. Van der Byl’s very smart Homburg hat. He had found this on the table in the entrance hall to the mess. “Surely the minister with his British Army background knows better that to leave his hat in the entrance hall of an officers’ mess when its rightful place is in the cloak room!” Having said this, John placed the hat on my wife’s head.

  Beryl immediately sat on the bar counter and posing in an exaggerated manner made some statement in PK’s affected accent. She was still doing this when Eddie Wilkinson whipped the hat from her head and, before he could be stopped, poured a full pint of beer into it causing instant loss of shape. Some officers took sips from the hat before it became the object of a roughhouse rugby match during which it shrivelled and shrunk into a shapeless mess. Once the match was over, the hat was unceremoniously driven down one of the horns of a kudu trophy hanging on the wall. When the minister was ready to leave, his headache immediately re-developed because he could not find his prized hat. Group Captain Edwards tore into the Grog Spot to see if anyone had seen it. Everyone pointed to the kudu horns.

  PK took off for Salisbury in a thundering bad mood and John Digby phoned officers at New Sarum to brief them on what had happened. A whole group of them rushed off to find hats and gathered at Air Movements in time to meet the minister. As PK emerged from the Dakota, everyone doffed their hats in greeting. Unable to respond, the minister’s annoyance and headache worsened. Fortunately he was humoured sufficiently to accept the offer of a drink in the mess where his headache dissipated before his departure for home in good spirits.

  John Digby took all the Saville Row hat-maker’s details from the destroyed hat and, through his brother in London, had a new Homburg made. When Terry Emsley was persuaded by John to present the new hat to PK, the minister vowed never again to leave it unattended in any place other than a hatbox in the boot of his car.

  For all his eccentricities and flamboyance, PK was a bright politician who spoke fluent German. I heard it said that he very cleverly saved Rhodesia many millions of dollars by ‘confiding’, very loudly, with a fellow passenger on a Lufthansa flight out of Germany. This was done to make sure that an agent, whether British or American I do not know, sitting behind him could hear his words. He knew the agent was trying to establish the purpose of his visit to Germany—and PK wanted to oblige. This was because he had just received confirmation from home that the new Rhodesian Mint had successfully started pumping out high-quality Rhodesian dollar notes. By boasting loudly about the German firm that was about to deliver Rhodesian currency through an agency he named, he triggered a UN action that blocked the deal. Thanks to PK, this ‘UN sanctions-blocking success against Rhodesia’ not only saved millions in foreign currency at UN expense, it highlighted anotherof the country’s self–sufficiency triumphs.

  P. K. Van der Byl stood out in any situation—even in this official Parliamentary record fcirca 1976. His pose and dark glasses make PK easy to spot.

  Roland Coffegnot

  SUD AVIATION’S CHIEF TEST PILOT, Roland Coffegnot, made his second visit to Rhodesia to discuss any problems we were experiencing with our Alouettes and to fly with instructors. Being Sud Aviation’s test pilot for the Alouette III’s, Roland knew the absolute limits of these machines, which made flying with him both enlightening and frightening.

  The first thing he demonstrated to me seemed crazy. In the hover at about shoulder height he applied full rudder. The helicopter tail swung around with increasing speed and the nose pitched progressively downward until it seemed the main rotor blades were about to strike the spinning ground. At this point full opposite rudder was applied to stop the rotation, which caused the aircraft to shoot off into forward flight as if catapulted. It was nice to know this was possible but, not seeing any operational value in the manoeuvre, I never tried it myself.

  Next, Roland asked me to hover. I was settled when, without warning, he slammed the fuel-flow cock closed. This was my first-ever powerless landing that worked out well enough, although touchdown was a bit heavy. Only then did Roland realise that I had no prior ‘engine-off’ experience, so he repeated the exercise twice. Next on his programme were three engine-off autorotations from height, which I enjoyed. This is when he told me that, when instructing a student, I should always cut power when the student least expected it to happen.

  He insisted that it was absolutely essential for an instructor to be quite certain that his students would automatically check the yaw that occurs with power loss and instinctively ‘dump’ the collective pitch lever to ensure minimal loss of rotor speed. Hesitation would be fatal. He then demonstrated and made me practise hair-raising, power-off, forced landings from the hover at 500 feet. When hovering below this height recovery from an engine failure was impossible.

  Ten years after my flights with him, Roland Coffegnot is seen here during one of his regular visits to Rhodesia. From left to right: PB, Harold Griffiths, Roland, Graham Cronshaw and Air Commodore Norman Walsh.

  At the moment the engine cut, it was necessary to dump collective and pitch the aircraft into a vertical dive. The helicopter accelerated rapidly in its hair-raising descent but this kept the rotor blades spinning at a safe speed. The nose was then pitched up quite rapidly with the ground rushing up as the rotor blades spun up to maximum rpm, providing plenty of rotor speed to reduce the descent rate to zero for a gentle roll-on landing. As with the power-off practices from forward flight, use of the collective pitch control, other than to prevent the rotors from over-speeding, had to be left to the last moment to utilise th
e kinetic energy within the spinning rotor blades to make a controlled touch down. Good judgement was paramount.

  Roland made it known to Air HQ just how important it was for pilots to experience and handle unexpected power failure. This was accepted and 7 Squadron instructors were cleared to cut power in flight. However, Air HQ ruled that this was only to be done at base where the resultant forced landing would be onto a runway. This ruling completely defeated Roland Coffegnot’s insistence that pilot reaction could only be adequately tested if engine failure was induced when a pilot least expected it. When flying anywhere near the main runway with an instructor, pilots were always wide awake and expecting fuel flow to be cut.

  Operation Griffin

  IN MID 1968 BERYL AND I went on long-overdue leave. During our absence ZAPU made its third attempt to establish the safe route through Rhodesia that they so dearly wanted to create for their SAANC mates. The employment of large forces during Operations Nickel and Cauldron had failed dismally, but ZAPU’s James Chikerema and SAANC’s Oliver Tambodid not seem to grasp the reasons for these failures with high losses. This time they used a small group of twenty-nine menwho crossed the Zambezi River on the night of 15 July.

  Their crossing point between Chirundu and the Kariba Gorge aimed for a shorter route to the African populated areas of Vuti Purchase Land and Nyaodza Tribal Trust Land where they intended to establish firm bases. However, unbeknown to them, they had an SB plant in their midst. Glenn MaCaskill had launched his agent into Zambia in April 1968 and was surprised by his early return as a ‘trained terrorist’. The agent had slipped away as soon as it got dark and made a beeline for the Police base at Chirundu to report the incursion.

  The group’s spoor was located at 08:30 on 16 July by trackers and Border Control troops. RLI troops were brought to immediate standby at Kariba and four helicopters with two Provosts bolstered FAF 2’s regular contingent. Terrorist tracks were followed westwards to the opening of the Kariba Gorge then southward up the steep escarpment line before entering a level, south-flowing valley with moderately high hills bounding its flanks.

  Ahead of the tracker group, Second Lieutenant Jerry Strong’s callsign was established in an ambush for the night of 17-18 July. At 07:00 on 18th he broke ambush to conduct a cross-graining search. He came upon the terrorists’ tracks and asked his OC, Major Rob Southey, for two additional sticks (then five men) including a tracker to be flown to him.

  A narrow river running from the eastern high ground with very steep slopes was the place the terrorists had moved from the main valley to rest and shelter in amongst large boulders that packed the twisting ravine. Jerry’s callsign moved along the north bank of the river line with a supporting callsign paralleling on the south bank. Two terrorist backpacks were then located giving warning that the terrorists were very close by. Twenty metres farther on lead scout Lance-Corporal Lahee on the north bank came under fire from about ten terrorists. This forced him and the whole of Jerry’s callsign to retire a short distance and regroup in cover.

  Jerry and Lahee then moved to higher ground and crawled forward onto a ledge to overlook the cave from which terrorist fire had come. They lobbed in all of their hand grenades, fired one 32Z rifle-grenade each and emptied their rifle magazines before they became pinned down from a different terrorist position. They could not withdraw.

  Overhead, Norman Walsh and his gunner ‘TJ’ van den Berg stood by to give covering fire from their MAG but, because he was pinned down, Jerry found it impossible to give proper direction. The callsign on the south bank then made contact killing one terrorist but sustained one wounded casualty before becoming pinned down also. Reinforcements arrived on Jerry’s side of the river allowing him to draw back under their covering fire. At this point Major Southey arrived and, together with Jerry, he moved callsigns downriver before crossing over to move up the south bank with the aim of relievingthe pinned-down troops who were taking casualties every time they moved. This failed and the rescuers themselves became pinned down by heavy accurate fire from well-sited terrorist positions.

  Up to this point the terrorist group was thought to be ZANU because ZANU had not shown up for a long time and the crossing into Rhodesia had been conducted in typical ZANU fashion. Besides, SB had not disclosed anything to ensure their agent and their methods remained secret. But now the aggressive resistance, good tactical siting and controlled accurate fire, made it obvious to the troops that they were in contact with ZAPU.

  While refuelling, Norman Walsh discovered that his helicopter had sustained two 7.62mm strikes to fuselage and tail rotor and Peter Nicholls’ had taken a single strike through the rear fuselage and fuel tank which, by design, had self-sealed. This was the first time aircraft had sustained hits, but at no stage had the aircrew seen a single terrorist.

  Unable to give direction for helicopter supporting fire and realising that terrorists under boulders would be immune to vertical gunfire anyway, Jerry suggested to his OC that Provosts with Frantans might provide a solution. Time had flown by and it was already 15:00 with only two and a half hours of daylight remaining.

  Tony Smit and Ken Law few in from nearby FAF 2 with two Frantans each. With the troops so close to the terrorists, it was essential to drop the first Frantans short of their target. Release of each Frantan had to be made in a steep dive whilst turning hard starboard to avoid the southern face of the mountain. After release, still turning steeply, high ‘G’ and full power had to be applied to recover from the dive where the river exited into the open valley.

  First Frantans fell well short against the mountain face. Tony and Ken returned to FAF 2 for more Frantans, which they managed to drop into the riverbed itself then progressed in two steps nearer to the pinned-down troops. Unbeknown to Tony and Ken, terrorists were taking casualties from their fery strikes even before they reached their intended strike point.

  By this time Major Southey and Jerry Strong, having sustained two wounded casualties, had pulled their callsign back using the Provosts attacks and smoke grenades to cover their withdrawal. But the callsign they had attempted to relieve remained pinned down, even after the last of sixteen Frantans had been expended. Because of this, Hunters and Vampires on airborne standby over the area could not be used before dark. Meanwhile more Frantans were flown to FAF 2 from New Sarum.

  It was not until 19:30 that the callsign, which had been pinned down for over eight hours, managed to move out under cover of darkness with its casualties. RLI, PATU and South African Police callsigns set up ambush positions in the riverbed base and on the high ground as helicopters came in to lift out the RLI casualties. In doing this, Norman Walsh and Peter Nicholls faced great difficulty because of steep mountainsides and the blackness of the night in conditions of thick haze.

  As soon as the landing light was switched on, it lit up the haze ahead making visual contact with ground impossible until dangerously low and close. Fortunately Norman noticed that, when flying to one side of Peter, he could see the ground quite clearly where Peter’s light was aimed, whereas Peter himself was blinded by his own reflected light. Norman told Peter to switch off his landing light whilst he flew high at ninety degrees to Peter’s flight path and illuminated the landing area.

  Norman, blinded by his own white pool of illuminated haze whilst flying high enough to clear all high ground, could just make out Peter’s bright red rotating beacon lights which helped him point his landing light onto the area ahead of Peter’s flight line. Now Peter could see the ground clearly all the way and only needed to switch on his own landing light for the landing itself. This worked like a charm so, having collected casualties, Peter climbed and gave the same assistance to Norman. This virtually eliminated the dangers of approaching high ground at night. The same procedure was later used successfully in many night operations where Trojan aircraft, equipped with a handheld searchlight accompanied single helicopters for casualty evacuations at night from difficult terrain.

  No contact was made with terrorists during the nigh
t. Tony Smit and Ken Law dropped a few 600,000-candlepower flares before midnight to help troops search for movement but none was seen. At 06:10 next morning Tony and Ken placed down four more Frantans on the terrorist position that had been so troublesome the previous day. Then Jerry Strong led a sweep up the river. There was no resistance because the terrorist survivors had made good their escape over the high groundbetween ambush positions. Twelve dead terrorists were found, most burnt by Frantans.

  Sergeant Major ‘Bangstick’ Turle in the meanwhile was leading a tracker-combat callsign on the trail of survivors whose tracks were found to be moving south over the high ground, then across the main Kariba road into flat ground east of Kariba Airfield. As the callsign was approaching a dry riverbed, the sergeant-major smelt the unmistakable stench of rotting flesh. One hundred metres farther on he came upon the terrorists and took out all ten ZAPU, without casualties to his callsign. Most of the dead terrorists had been burnt by Frantan, which accounted for the early warning stench.

  Twenty-seven ZAPU had been killed and one captured. Another was thought to have escaped but in reality, though listed in capture documents as a member of the group, he was the SB plant.

  Tracker dogs proven

  FOLLOWING AIR HQ APPROVAL TO progress the radio tracker dog project, BSAP Dog Section Officer Ted Spencer and his dog Jill joined Peter Allen and me. From the outset Jill, a Doberman Pinscher-Bloodhound cross, worked well with Beau. But Beau refused to be outdone by the bitch that was a much faster tracker. He stubbornly insisted on working every inch of every trail himself.

  The route the Op Griffin terrorists had followed from the Zambezi River up to where contact occurred offered us the most difficult testing ground for the dogs. In August the area was very hot and dry giving the worst possible condition for scent tracking. Accompanied by Wing Commander Porky MacLaughlin from Air HQ, the original trackers of Op Griffin commenced a moonlight retrace of the terrorists’ route and timing from the point where tracks had originally been detected. By dawn they were moving along the valley on the high ground.