In the meanwhile many ZANU men were being prepared for combat at Mgagao in Tanzania. This new training base had replaced Itubi in 1971. It was in this year too that our doubts about Portuguese forces’ ability to contain FRELIMO were confirmed when Rhodesian forces came into contact with FRELIMO forces along our border during an operation codenamed ‘Lobster’. By early 1972 ZANU was ready to make its first reconnaissance probes into Rhodesia, FRELIMO having secured the ground right up to the border and having also concluded preliminary arrangements with some tribal chiefs inside Rhodesia.
Special Branch detective Section Officer Peter Stanton, who I would come to know quite well, had warned of ZANLA’s imminent arrival in the northeastern sector of Rhodesia. First indications from sources inside Zambia showed that ZANLA would be probing on a wide front. Then civilians coming over our border seeking refuge from FRELIMO domination told Peter that ZANLA reconnaissance units were based near the border east of Mukumbura. In late March they named one location as Matimbe base. This was confirmed when the SAS (Special Air Service) mounted an operation that resulted in a number of kills. All the bodies were dressed in FRELIMO uniforms but documents confirmed most were ZANLA men.
Documents captured at Matimbe base revealed two important things. One was that indoctrination of headmenwithin Rhodesia had already succeeded in obtaining willing recruits to swell ZANLA’s numbers, thus eliminating any further need to press-gang for recruits in Zambia. The other confirmed that ZANLA intended to infiltrate on a wide front to spread Rhodesian forces and interrupt the smooth running of the economy by forcing an increase in the call-up of Territorial Army soldiers.
External recce training
4 SQUADRON’S RECCE TRAINING AREA WAS limited to ground west of where the SAS had contacted ZANLA at Matimbe Base. I had a fair idea of what we would be looking for in Mozambique but felt apprehensive about teaching my men whilst learning the ropes myself. Although I was only expected to teach pilots recce, I decided that the technicians should participate to involve them directly and to see how they took to the task. To make things manageable, separate periods of ten days were allocated to each of two halves of the squadron.
Following introductory flights to study tribal patterns near Gwelo, I took the first half of the squadron to Kariba to compare animal paths with those of humans. We then moved to Gutsa Airfield sited on the west bank of the Musengezi River at the base of the Zambezi escarpment and forty-six kilometres south of the Mozambican border.
Air Force Volunteer Reservists under Flight Lieutenant Geoff Fenn, who had his faithful old servant ‘Sixpence’ in tow, had already prepared Gutsa base for us. In addition to the tented accommodation, Geoff had set up an operations tent with radio and telecommunication facilities. The camp lay under tall mopani trees between the runway and an established Army base. At the time D Coy RAR under command of Major Bruce Hulley was there.
It was the start of winter so the weather was pleasant and relatively cool. This was important because, in the very hot conditions of the valley during summer, it would not have been possible for the Trojan aircraft to take off with full fuel and four men. As it was we had to turn right when airborne to avoid the high banks on the eastern side of the Musengezi River and climb along the course of the river until high enough to turn for Mozambique.
Gutsa base camp.
On our first night at Gutsa I noticed abnormal drum-beating activity both close and far off downriver. I asked Bruce Hulley what this was all about. He said that in all his previous stints at Gutsa no such drum-beating occurred other than during customary beer-drinking parties every Saturday night. Yet during this spell there had been many drums beating every single night. The abnormal activity worried him and he had made this known to Army HQ.
One night the drums stopped their perpetual throbbing because, at the request of the local tribal chief, Bruce had undertaken to shoot a troublesome crocodile. The beast had lived in a large pool on the Musengezi River for as long as the chief could remember and it had been responsible for killing a number of people. Recently the dreaded reptile had dragged a young girl screaming into the river. She was never seen again.
I accompanied Bruce and two of his men to the large boomerang-shaped pool in which the crocodile lived. We were all armed with FN rifles and Bruce had a powerful headlamp plus four hand-grenades. The intense beam of light tracked back and forth over the water and along the reeds of the far bank searching for crocodile eyes that reflect light like bright stars. There was no sign of the brute so Bruce lobbed two widely separated grenades into the water. As the grenades went in, I slipped on the steep slope of the high bank overlooking the pool and very nearly went over the sheer drop into the water just as the dull thuds from the grenades mushroomed in the water. My slide was checked in time to see the huge crocodile’s eyes light up in the beam of torchlight midway between the turbulent patches of water. We all fired together hitting the croc several times. When spray from the hail of bullets settled there was no sign of the brute, which was never seen again. Next night the drums were beating again.
4 Squadron needed to make detailed reconnaissance of almost 3,000-square nautical miles of territory. This was divided into five overlapping sectors and each crew was allocated to a sector that was changed every day to allow everyone to work every inch of the entire area twice. I flew with all crews in turn and from the sixth day roamed the entire area in my own aircraft checking on previous day reports and picking up on any information that had been missed.
Within the first four days the Ops Room map had every path, village and field plotted. The fields were marked accurately to show size and shape for future comparison. Villages were marked in two colours. One colour showed occupied villages with the number of huts in active use whilst the other colour recorded the position and size of abandoned villages.
Once the primary and obvious information had been acquired, we commenced a search for hidden habitations. This resulted in the location of a handful of hidden camps complete with bashas, which were judged to be for civilians in hiding. They were difficult to see from our operating height, which I had set at 2,000 feet above ground. All crews had been briefed that, under no circumstance, were they to descend below this height. In the event that a crew located something that needed a second opinion, they were either to call me over or ask another crew operating close by to do so.
During the morning of the seventh day, with three days still remaining before the second half of the squadron was due to arrive, John Blythe-Wood and David Rowe disobeyed my instruction. These two young officers and their two technicians located a place in a line of thick riverine bush where faint human paths (they proved to be toilet paths) suggested that there was a camp hidden under the trees. Rather than bother me, they decided to make a low pass to get a close look under the tree canopies.
I was about forty-five nautical miles away when John Blythe-Wood called to say that he was returning to base. His transmission was distorted and unusually weak but I gathered a fire had been put out, the turbo-charger had failed, level flight was being maintained and he would reach base safely. I was not concerned because John’s voice, though faint, was calm. Some time passed before I heard him call finals at Gutsa; so I put the matter out of my mind and continued my work.
It was only when I returned to base that I learned that these youngsters had been shot up as they made their fast run past the hidden camp. They had all spotted the bashas under the trees before seeing men firing at them from close range. One tracer round entered the aircraft and set fire to clothing and equipment, filling the cabin with smoke before the technicians extinguished the flames. The turbo-charger had been put out of action and only excess speed had allowed John to gain sufficient height to stagger home on limited power. Two tyres were burst though they did not know this until they touched down on landing.
Dave Rowe (left) and John Blythe-Wood (right) with Roger Watt.
Other holes in the aircraft proved that at least one machine-gunner understoo
d how to aim-off on a moving target. Dave Rowe had a hot expended round fall into his lap but otherwise all four crewmembers escaped injury by inches. Air HQ overreacted to the incident by ordering termination of our training with instruction for me to report to Air HQ immediately.
At Air HQ I stood up for the pilots and told my seniors that I could see no advantage whatsoever in subjecting two young officers to a court martial for disobeying my instructions. I felt that they had displayed the same curiosity as any one of the Air Staff members might have done in the same circumstances. A court martial would serve no greater purpose than the harsh lesson of the incident itself and it would certainly be bad for morale throughout the squadrons. The Air Staff agreed but nine long weeks passed before approval was given to proceed with training because there had also been some questioning of my decision to include the squadron’s technicians in recce training. So again I had to go over the importance of upholding morale and a need to explore their recce potential
When I returned to Gutsa with the second half of the squadron, drums still pounding away every night and on my very first recce flight I was astounded by the changes that had occurred during our short absence. For the first five days I flew with each crew as before. All information was plotted onto plastic sheeting laid over our original map to highlight what had changed, and where. Of particular interest to me was the emergence of four routes that started miles apart on the Zambezi River and converged in stages to a common point a few hundred yards north of the border on the west bank of the Musengezi River. Parts of these routes had been plotted during the first recce training period but the clarity and continuity of the pathways showed unmistakably that they were now carrying heavier traffic. My crews were picking up more small camps with bashas this time round, mostly tribesmen in hiding, because the dry winter conditions had substantially reduced bush cover.
Technicians at Gutsa. The high ground is a low section of the Zambezi escarpment range which in winter is dry and bare of leaf.
Having flown with every crew, my interest turned southwards into Rhodesia where I was able to follow the single route out of Mozambique southward along the Musengezi River. The route alternated from one side of the river to the other and passed Gutsa Airfield on the opposite side of the river before climbing steeply up the escarpment to where St Albert’s Mission lay a short distance behind the lip of the high ground. I was totally convinced that ZANLA terrorists were active right there.
Bruce Hulley was still at Gutsa though his company was about to be replaced. We had long discussions on my findings and Bruce said his RAR troops had noticed increased traffic on the pathway along the river but it all seemed to be from barefooted tribesmen. Nevertheless Bruce said that his troops knew something was amiss because the locals were not behaving in the co-operative and friendly manner of the past.
Since his area of responsibilities lay on the valley floor, Bruce would not release troops to go up to St Albert’s Mission to check out that area. He said, however, that his own observations had been passed to Army HQ and that Special Branch, who had also found things greatly changed, had made this known to their own HQ.
On completion of our training I went to Air HQ to make a presentation of 4 Squadron’s findings. Although all the information signalled daily was plotted on the Ops Room map, it failed to convey what I was able to give verbally with emphasis and expansion on details. In particular I stressed the fact that terrorists were active in the St Albert’s Mission area of the Kandeya Tribal Trust Land (TTL) posing an immediate and serious threat to the Centenary farmers bordering on that area.
AVM Archie Wilson took the matter up at a meeting of the OCC and suggested that the Army Commander should get troops into the suspect area to check it out. However, because neither the Army Commander nor the Head of CIO knew of any reports from their own men, the matter was held over for the Prime Minister’s forthcoming National Defence Council Meeting.
At this meeting the results of 4 Squadron’s reconnaissance findings were presented, with stress given to my belief that terrorists had been active in the St Albert’s Mission for some time. The Army, Police and CIO agreed that the area should be checked without delay. But the Prime Minister wanted to know why the Department of Internal Affairs (INTAF), which was responsible for all matters in the TTLs, had not reported this matter. In answer, he received assurances fromSecretary of INTAF, Don Yardley, that no such activity could possibly occur without INTAF’s knowledge and a guarantee was given that not one single terrorist was anywhere near the Centenary farming area.
I was again summoned to Air HQ where I was told what had transpired and was given a serious telling-off for, “reading into the ground situations that simply do not exist” and for, “causing unnecessary alarm and despondency.” But then on 21 December ZANLA’s future commander, Solomon Mujuru (also Mutizwa and pseudo-named Rex Nhongo), led an attack on Altena Farm from his base camp close to St Albert’s Mission. When it was known that he and his ZANLA followers had been there indoctrinating the locals since May, no word was said about 4 Squadron having given ample warning of their presence five months earlier. By that time there was nothing to be gained in saying, “We told you so!” But it was bloody maddening!
I was in Air HQ a couple of weeks after the Altena Farm attack and was leaving the building when Air Commodore John Moss saw me and invited me into his office. Throughout my service time I had limited contact with him. Of medium build, good-looking and very popular with everyone, this silver-haired officer was well known for his even temper and softly spoken manner. All Air Force officers knew that John Moss was a raconteur of note, possessing that amazing ability to tell stories and jokes for many hours without pause. It was not that he enjoyed his own voice but simply that he could hold the attention of willing listeners and entertain without apparent effort.
John Moss obviously knew I had given accurate warning of ZANU’s routes and location and that all had been ignored. He did not exactly apologise but asked that I commend my squadron for a good performance and assure the men of better support in the future.
Preparing for bush ops
BACK AT THORNHILL I SET about improving 4 Squadron’s operational techniques and equipment. One idea I had, though unrelated to counter-insurgency warfare, was to assist Police identify ringleaders during mob riots. Rioting in Gwelo’s townships had continued throughout the day after the death of Guy Munton-Jackson and his technician when their helicopter broke up at night in bad weather when positioning to support the Gwelo Police. 4 Squadron pilots told me how they had been able to see the ringleaders quite clearly from the air, but these fomenters of trouble were always farthest from Police forces, stirring up trouble from behind the rioters. Once rioting ceased the police were unable to identify the ringleaders.
I decided to produce a tank to carry liquid dye that could be dumped on riot leaders to make their identity known long after rioting ceased. I sought help from Thornhill’s medical staff and selected Brilliant green because it was reputed to be harmless and very difficult to wash off skin and clothing. So far as I remember, Brilliant green was a water-soluble dye used to track bloodflow through the human body.
Once the tank I designed was working satisfactorily, I looked for opportunity to test the system on a live target to confirm delivery technique and the longevity of the dye. The Brilliant green crystals, being water soluble, turned the water in the tank to a dark blue-green colour with no mixing problems. So I placed the mixed liquid in a forty-four-gallon drum suitably elevated to fill the tank quickly when it was secured to the floor next to the rear door of a Trojan.
I was returning from a routine flight when I noticed a gang of prisoners working on a taxiway close to the threshold of grass runway 13. Gwelo Prison Services provided Thornhill with a limited labour service and had a small prison at Thornhill for the minor-offence prisoners who were about to become my target. The dump tank was fitted to a Trojan, chop chop, and charged with the liquid dye. I then got airborne on the pretext o
f needing low-level circuit practice. Once airborne I manoeuvred to pass over the prisoners in what would appear to the Air Traffic Controllers to be a low tight turn onto the runway. As the men came almost abreast of me on the outside of the turn the dye was dumped. Control Tower immediatelycalled to say a shower of green liquid had been seen to fall from my aircraft. I acknowledged this by saying the fluid had been dumped deliberately and that I was returning to the squadron.
I got into my car and drove over to the prison gang. Every prisoner was covered in green on one side of his body and all had copper-gold hair. Unfortunately the two uniformed prison guards, whom I had thought safe, were also green from cap to boots. I cheered them all up with two large bottles of Coke and set off to visit the Prison Superintendent in Gwelo to let him know what had happened. I told him exactly what I was trying to achieve and offered to pay for the cleaning or replacement of uniforms. He said there was no need for that because he was delighted that in future it would be possible to mark riot leaders. He agreed to let me know how long it took to remove dye from the uniforms of both guards and prisoners. I told the Superintendent that I was more interested in the length of time the dye remained visible on skin and hair. Ten days later I received the answers. Seven launderings for uniforms, three days to restore hair colour and four hours for skin. I was pleased with the results but no riotous situation ever developed to put the system to the use for which it was intended.
Next I produced a simple, cheap projectile to simulate the clumsy flight of Frantans and teargas so that we could make low-cost simulated attacks outside approved weapons ranges. This was a 100mm Kaylite foam tube filled with sand and white powder with flat discs taped on each end. The armourers called them BUBS, which simply stood for Break-up bombs.
Winds of Destruction Page 42
