Winds of Destruction

by Peter John Hornby Petter-Bowyer

  Base 5’s anti-aircraft guns were sited well outside the perimeter of the target and they put up so much fire at us that I broke away and returned to base. In this case the anti-aircraft gun tracer rounds coming our way had been made highly visible because the whole area of the target was in the shadow of high-level cloud. Major Vizlha’s high-pitch Portuguese outburst did nothing to dampen my own fear.

  Next day the assault force was used to check out the effects of the air strikes on the three bases. Considerable quantities of FRELIMO equipment were recovered out of each of the bases though this would have been greater had the force been used straight after the strikes. Anti-aircraft shell casings littered a number of gun positions but all guns had been taken away during the night.

  In Base (3), eight FRELIMO bodies were found burnt in or next to thatched structures with evidence of the burial of others. No bodies were found in Base (4). Something in the order of twenty FRELIMO dead were in Base (5) where many fresh field-dressing packets showed that a number of wounded had been taken to safety.

  On 13 April the assault force was put in on a base, I think by Kevin Peinke. I continued with my own recce directly to the north of Chris Weinmann’s area with our Director of Operations, Wing Commander Porky MacLaughlin, who was visiting the Air Detachment at Estima. He had insisted on accompanying me on a flight during which we conducted FAC for another combined jet strike before we led Clive Ward flying a Trojan and Chris Dickinson flying a Provost onto a smaller base.

  My recall of these strikes is vague, but the Air Strike Reports indicate that the thatching of buildings in the base struck by jets was so green that the troops had difficulty in setting them alight. In spite of this, the base had been deserted before the strike went in, indicating that FRELIMO had become jittery. So it was decided to switch all attention to a new area.

  On 14 April I moved east of the areas we had disturbed. At midday Chris Weinmann and I checked in for a routine exchange of information. Chris said he was onto something big in the very area I had warned him to treat with caution. I was doing well myself and told him so. At 12:30 I checked in with Chris again but received no reply.

  Every five minutes thereafter I called Chris, but still no reply. I wondered if he had returned to Centenary, or maybe the small Portuguese base at Nova Mague just south of the Zambezi River. Maybe he was trying to arrange for attacks on whatever he had found. But I could not understand why he would have done this without letting me know. By 14:30 I had become very concerned but was unable to talk to Rob Gaunt because Estima was out of radio range and a relayed discussion was not possible as Kevin and Mark had already returned to base.

  When I reached Estima at around 15:30, Rob Gaunt sent a signal to Air HQ requesting Ops to establish if Chris had returned to Centenary. The Portuguese were asked to check with Nova Mague but, unfortunately, that small base was only contactable on routine radio schedule at 17:00. In the meanwhile, Rob Gaunt had accepted a challenge from the brigadier and his adjutant to a shooting competition with Rob and me.

  On our first shoot from 100 metres Rob and I, using FN rifles, had fired off ten rounds each before the brigadier and his adjutant, using Armalite rifles, had fired their second shots. We beat them hands down. The brigadier was not at all impressed by the ‘reckless rate of fire’ we had displayed and emphasised how one needed to fire, settle, aim and squeeeeze the trigger. We said we should try this at 200 metres. But, again, Rob and I cleared our magazines before our challengers had fired second shots. We were already standing up as the brigadier fired his third shot and Rob whispered to me, “I put my tenth round into the brigadier’s target. Lets see how he reacts to being called a cheat.” We never did find out because, during our walk to inspect targets, we were all summonsed urgently to the Ops Room. Chris Weinmann had not landed at Centenary or any other Rhodesian base and Nova Mague reported that no aircraft had been seen or heard all day.

  Search for Chris

  I PREPARED IMMEDIATELY TO COMMENCE SEARCHING for Chris who I knew must be in serious trouble. Rob Gaunt advised Air HQ of my intention but received an order that I was not, under any circumstances, to fly until cleared to do so. This clearance was only given one and a half hours after sunset following continuous niggling to let us off the leash. I intended to fly alone but Mark Knight persuaded me that I needed a second pair of eyes to watch my blind side for any distress signal that Chris may use if his emergency beacon was not working.

  It was a very black night and the vague line of the Zambezi River was just sufficient to get us to a point south of where Chris had reported “something big”. Although we were flying around 10,000 feet above the ground, it still makes me shudder to recall how, for Chris’s sake, we deliberately flew with our rotating beacons flashing brightly. This provided any Strela operator with the most perfect aiming point for a missile that would easily detect our exhaust heat against the cold black sky. Were we brave or stupid? It is impossible to say because our safety seemed less important than the safety of our colleague on the ground.

  Mark and I had agreed that lights had to be used just in case Chris was running, breathless and unable to hear the aircraft. For three hours we ran an expanding square search but heard no emergency signal and saw absolutely nothing save one group of small fires burning inside a Portuguese aldeamento. We felt totally helpless and were overwhelmed by a deep sense of foreboding by the time we returned to Estima after midnight. Rob told us that our three Trojans and crews were required to position at Nova Mague next morning to participate in a search for Chris. He also let me know that he had received a signal revealing that one of my junior technicians, Senior Aircraftsman Rob Durrett, had been flying with Chris.

  Rob left all of our ground equipment at Estima, at least for the time being, so that we could continue with Op Marble when this became possible. He returned to Thornhill by Dakota once my three aircraft were airborne for Nova Mague.

  At Nova Mague, the Operations Officer (I cannot recall who it was) and a team of Volunteer Reserve men were setting up communications in a tiny building next to the grass airstrip whilst others unloaded tents and supplies from a Dakota. Four helicopters, two Trojans and two Provosts released by FAFs 3 and 4 arrived just behind us. More aircraft arrived later from New Sarum and Thornhill.

  Inside the small communications room was a large, beautifully carved wooden casket containing the body of a Portuguese soldier. It had been there for many months awaiting shipment to Portugal. The casket lay elevated on boxes at a height that made it an ideal working platform for 4 and 7 Squadron’s flight authorisation and aircraft F700 technical log books. Each time a pilot or technician came to attend to these he would say something along the lines, “Excuse me Alfredo” and on completion, “Thanks Alfredo”.

  Based on what I knew, and supported by Peter Cooke’s knowledge of Chris Weinmann’s intended recce area on the day he went missing, a search involving every squadron had been planned by the Air Staff. The area stretching northwards from the Zambezi River had been broken into defined blocks, each to be searched by its assigned squadron. Operating in pairs, Hunters, Canberras, Vampires, Dakotas, Provosts, Trojans and Alouettes were involved. A commando of the RLI was on hand to protect Nova Mague and to give ground assistance as soon as either the missing aircrew or the Trojan was found.

  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 reached 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.