Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

by Peter Petter-Bowyer

  Having gained some semblance of control, Tshombe declared Katanga independent which had the effect of drawing Katangese gendarmerie to his cause. Along with this came many white volunteers and mercenary officers to head the newly formed Katangese Army.

  Tshombe was known to be pro-West whilst Patrice Lumumba, head of Central Government in Leopoldville, was pro-communist. A United Nations force was sent to Congo to help restore order and for reasons known only to himself, Kasavubu—President of the Congo—had Lumumba arrested. Lumumba was half dead through maltreatment by the time he was dumped off at Elizabethville, in spite of Tshombe’s refusal to accept him on Katangese soil. Lumumba was murdered by Katangese villagers soon thereafter with Tshombe becoming the scapegoat for his demise. With UN attention now focused on Katanga there existed a threat to peace in Northern Rhodesia and the Federation.

  Federal troops and the RRAF were called to readiness though at no time was there any question of entering Katanga or any other part of Congo. Considerable political manoeuvring ensued and at one point it appeared as if Tshombe’s own initiatives might succeed. It was agreed that provinces would be given autonomy whilst Kasavubu’s Central Government retained a neutral stance on purely provincial matters. However, as has become common in African politics, Kasavubu ignored an agreement made at Tananarive in Malagasy and had Tshombe arrested at Qoquilhatville, the venue for a meeting intended to ratify the Tananarive Agreement. Tshombe was later released.

  Following this, a real tragedy developed when the so-called ‘peace-keeping force’ of the United Nations was used with the aim of returning Katanga to the control of Central Government. Yielding to a multiplicity of communist and non-aligned demands, Tshombe’s voice of democracy was ignored and the UN, whose real character became fully revealed, systematically blocked all his efforts.

  The true colours of this world body were exposed again when, acting behind a screen of western press outcries at the building of the Berlin Wall, the UN implemented the most shameful abuse against the freedom-seeking Katangese people. Irish, Indian, Swedish and Ghurkha troops used appalling armed force. The Katangese soldiers were not willing to meekly surrender their arms however, so the bloody conflict that then ensued threatened to spill over the Federal border and the RRAF moved two squadrons forward to Ndola.

  A full-scale UN Offensive launched at 04:00 on Wednesday 13 September 1961. As a direct consequence, just four days later, the secretary-general of the United Nations, Dag Hammarskjold, died in an air tragedy whilst approaching to land at Ndola Airport for talks with Tshombe who was waiting there to meet him. Had Dag Hammarskjold lived, it is conceivable that some sense might have been brought into the UN’s Congo policy. Instead the situation worsened.

  Following a tenuous Ceasefire the UN force under Brigadier Raja of the Indian Army launched a second Offensive against the Katangese. This opened at 13:45 on 5 December. Canberra bombers of the Indian Air Force and Saab fghters of the Swedish Air Force bombed and strafed the Katangese airbase at Kolwezi the next day. All-out war had been initiated against Katanga whose crime had been to seek independence under its western-oriented, multi-national government. For its part, the UN sought nothing short of all-out control by the ultra-left Central Government.

  Incredibly this whole tragedy was largely USA-inspired for its own greedy interests in Congo’s minerals. In fact, successive US governments fully supported their corruptible puppet, Mabuto Sese Seko and for many years ignored his tyrannical rule and blatant corruption against his people just so long as US interests in Congolese minerals were met.

  Pilot training at Thornhill was temporarily suspended when all the instructors were attached to No 1 Squadron to make up pilot numbers for Vampire operations. For me this was a most welcome break from instruction. No 3 and No 4 Squadrons had already been operating out of Ndola and northeastern Zambia for some days when we arrived.

  A Central African meteorological condition known as the ITCZ (Intertropical Convergence Zone) develops in the summer months when warm moist ‘Congo air’ converges with the cool air masses driving up from the south. This creates a deep belt of rainy weather with low cloud that can persist for many days and nights.

  The ITCZ usually moved between central Congo and Southern Rhodesia’s southern border. During the time we were at Ndola for ‘the Congo Crisis’, however, the ITCZ remained almost stationary over Katanga and the northern sectors of Northern Rhodesia. This made flying difficult and even dangerous, as proven when the over-tired aircrew of Dag Hammarskjold’s DC6 aircraft crashed in line with, but way short of Ndola’s active runway.

  The crash site was discovered the following morning by one of the Provost pilots sent out to search for the missing DC6. The aircraft had been heard by all of us in the early hours of the morning as it passed over Ndola Airport on its procedural NDB let-down. But on the inbound leg for landing the pilot few into a 100-foot-high forested ridge five miles from the airfield. Inspection of the crash site, where a number of local charcoal producers lived within the forest, showed that the aircraft had met with the trees, wings level, in a shallow descent. Had the cloud base not been so low, the crew would have picked up the lights of Ndola and arrived safely. Instead the aircraft descended below the check height given on the International let-down chart for Ndola. However, a United States Air Force Jeppesen manual, found clipped open at the Ndolo (Congo) section, happened to be 1,000 feet lower than Ndola (Northern Rhodesia).

  Dave Thorne and I, flying Vampire FB9s, operated as a pair for the entire period of our stay. Our task, along with those of other Vampires and a couple of Provosts based at Ndola, was to make the RRAF’s presence known along the western Katangese border and keep an eye open for any trans-border movement of refugees and foreign armed forces. All flying had to be conducted under persistent low cloud, which in places was no more than 100 feet above the trees. This made map reading particularly difficult on our small-scaled 1:1,000,000 maps.

  Beyond the built-up areas, tarmac roads and railway lines linking the Copper Belt towns there existed nothing but a sea of magnificent tall trees that stretch for hundreds of miles in every direction. A few dirt roads were marked but no physical features existed to defne the international boundary line. In consequence we strayed across the border on occasions, once with Dave leading us as far beyond it as the rail-line just east of the UN-occupied base at Kolwezi. This was some forty nautical miles north of where we thought we were. Fortunately the weather was so bad that we seemed not to have been noticed.

  A second deep penetration occurred with me leading. We had come upon a large convoy of vehicles at the border post of Kasumbuleza. Having orbited to identify vehicle types and numbers I rolled out to fly along the roadway leading to the Northern Rhodesian town of Bancroft. We had flown some distance when Dave Thorne radioed “Cheeky!” at the same moment I saw the black smoke ahead caused by fighting in Elizabethville. We did a smart turn about and retraced our route to Kasumbuleza.

  It was only then that I realised that the road, power-lines and hills on the right side of the road from Kasumbuleza to Elizabethville looked exactly the same as those from Kasumbuleza to Bancroft. Considering there was no sun to give an automatic sense of direction, I had been remiss in relying on hills, road and power-lines without also checking my compass heading.

  When out of radio range of Ndola Approach, we often switched over to the Elizabethville Approach Control frequency to listen in on UN aircraft chatter. We had heard ’Tiger formation’, four Indian Air Force Canberras, a couple of times before something unusual occurred one morning.

  We had just switched over to listen to UN natter when Tiger Leader came up on Elizabethville Control, “Tiger, check-in.” Spontaneously the usual “Tiger 2”—“Tiger 3”—Tiger 4” check-in occurred. But this time it was immediately followed by “Tiger 5”—“Tiger 6”—“Tiger 7”—“Tiger 8”; all in typically Indian accents.

  The formation leader, showing annoyance transmitted, “Tiger, do not be playing foolishly
, check-in”, whereupon Tigers three to four were followed smoothly by the phantom Tigers 5 to 8. The leader obviously realised someone was interfering so he instructed his formation to QSY (change frequency) to their operational channel.

  Next day Tiger Leader was bringing his formation back to base. Having come onto the Elizabethville Approach Control frequency the formation checked in normally and, sure enough, the phantom Tigers 5 to 8 checked in too. The leader ignored the interference and asked Elizabethville Approach for a QDM (heading to steer to base) whereupon the Approach Controller, another Indian voice, asked Tiger Lead for an unmodulated transmission. This is a radio transmission with no voice inclusion that allows the directional sensing apparatus to receive a smooth (unmodulated) carrier wave on which to sense.

  As Tiger Leader transmitted, screeching in our headphones told us that a second aircraft was transmitting at the same time. The approach controller told Tiger his transmission had been blocked and asked for another unmodulated transmission. Again the screeching of an overlaid transmission disallowed the controller from establishing a heading for Tiger Lead to steer. His directional indicator needle would have been flicking randomly around its 360-degree dial.

  This situation repeated itself a few more times before Tiger 2 told his leader he was low on fuel and breaking away for an independent recovery to base. In a relatively short time the obviously angry Canberra leader was on his own, the other Canberras having also broken formation. Two days later we heard Tiger Formation once more showing that all Canberras had made it safely back to base. By this time the 4 Squadron pilot responsible for interfering with Tiger Formation had been exposed and given a flea in the ear. He did not interfere with Tiger Formation again.

  The Katangese forces were fighting the UN forces with all they had and one colourful French pilot’s exploits came to our notice. We knew him as Max and I only met him once. He operated a Twin-Dornier out of a small bush strip, Kipushi, whose 1,000-foot runway was half-inside Northern Rhodesia and half-inside Katanga Province. Most nights Max got airborne for his one-man air war against the UN. Crudely applied green and brown poster paint seemed to handle the rainy weather remarkably well and the camouflage effect was excellent. He employed crudely made bombs that were hand-dropped through an opening cut in the floor of his aircraft. Using the gas flame that emitted from its high stack at the Union Minière copper-smelting plant near Elizabethville, Max made timed runs to drop two bombs off each pass across the blacked-out UN airbase. He ignored ineffectual searching ground fire and made run after run against unseen aircraft on the ground. His efforts were well rewarded; in particular the destruction of a UN Globemaster was high return for such crude and inexpensive effort.

  When he could, Max drank at bars in Elizabethville where UN forces were present. What guise he employed I cannot say but his objective was to find out how his bombing had affected the UN air effort and to glean whatever other information he could. In doing this he befriended a helicopter technician who agreed to take him onto the airbase and show him over a small Bell helicopter. Max’s casual questions were answered and he found out how to start the machine. He then awaited an opportunity to steal it.

  When the right moment came, Max started the engine and, never having flown a helicopter before, heaved the Bell into the air and wobbled and swayed into forward flight. There were no difficulties with the low-level bolt to the border and Kipushi airstrip. But landing a helicopter is no simple matter as Max found out when his attempt to hover for the landing ended in a big mix-up as rotor blades beat the airframe to destruction. Max survived the experience and was airborne again that same night in his Dornier to bomb UN planes.

  On 18 December the instructors were released from Ndola to return to normal duties. Most of the flight back to Thornhill was in bright clear skies, which was wonderful after the awful weather around Ndola. However, this changed as we approached Thornhill where we had to make independent radar approaches through torrential rain in severe thunderstorms. Bulawayo and Salisbury were experiencing similar conditions so there were no question of a diversion. Flight Lieutenant Ron Vass directed me by radar to the point where I was handed over to the Precision Radar Controller whose voice I recognised as that of Squadron Leader Bat Maskell. Without hesitation I requested to be passed to Flight Lieutenant Mac Geeringh. As always Mac guided me right onto the runway whose lights I did not see until Mac instructed me to look up for touch-down.

  Having just settled down in the crew-room with a cup of coffee, I received a call from OC Flying who asked why I had insulted Squadron Leader Maskell by asking for Mac for the final radar talk-down. I explained that there had been no intention of insulting anyone but that a few weeks earlier on an instrument let-down in clear sky conditions my student, reacting correctly to Bat Maskell’s directions, would have reached ground well to the right of the runway. The experience had badly affected my confidence in him. Mac Geeringh, on the other hand, had a very reassuring voice and a special way of coaxing a pilot down the glide slope. For me, this had always ended up smack on the runway centre-line. Considering the weather conditions during this let-down I needed this confidence. OC Flying was satisfied, I heard no more about the matter and my personal relationship with Bat seemed unaffected.

  The return to Provosts and instruction after jet flying seemed boring but it had its rewards because Dave Hume, Griff and Bruce McKerron were coming along well. But then I was very annoyed when told I would be losing my best student, Dave Hume, to take on Officer Cadet Dave Becks whose instructor had engineered a direct swap of students.

  Gwelo Gliding Club

  OUR METEOROLOGIST, HARVEY QUAIL ALWAYS provided very accurate forecasts of weather conditions until his deep involvement with the Gwelo Gliding Club, which he founded, seemed to rob him of his forecasting talent.

  Harvey Quail.

  In 1962 he persuaded me to join his club as its Chief Flying Instructor. I accepted the position on condition that all flying members were grounded until they had undergone full instruction in spin recoveries with a Bulawayo instructor who owned a Tiger Moth. This was because, in 1961, two learner pilots had inadvertently entered spins and died because they had not been taught how to avoid or recover from this flying hazard. I would have preferred to do the instruction myself but our trainer, a Slingsby T31, was not suited for the purpose.

  Every flight I ever made in a glider gave me special pleasure, even the simple instructional ones. I particularly enjoyed flying high-performance, single-seater machines. So far as I was concerned, gliding could not be compared with powered flight. It possessed a magic all of its own and two particular flights stick in my mind.

  Mrs Mungay (pronounced Mingay), a great enthusiast who was always on hand to make tea for anyone needing refreshment, asked me to take her up on a short jolly. We made a normal cable-winch launch in the Slingsby T31 tandem trainer for what was intended to be a simple circuit and landing. However, on this occasion we entered strong lift just before the normal cable-release point so I cut free and entered into a tight turn to hold the thermal.

  The initial rate of climb was impressive and, amazingly, it kept increasing. The T31 was considered to be more like a streamlined brick than a performance glider but our thermal was so potent that we climbed with ease to 11,000 feet where it was bitterly cold.

  Being in an open cockpit dressed in shorts and a light shirt did not concern me because I was concentrating on climbing as high as possible. However Mrs Mungay, using the old-fashioned voice tube shouted, “My fanny is frozen." I laughed and ignored her problem until at 11,600 feet she was pleading with me to get her back on the ground. I rolled out of the turn to break from the thermal but the aircraft just carried on climbing. A little short of 12,000 feet I placed the glider in a full sideslip that did the trick and we descended down through ever-warmer air until finally we were back on the ground.

  Since there had been no intention to do more than fly one circuit, the aircraft had not been fitted with a barometric recorder
to prove the height achieved. So there was no point in complaining that I might have been denied the opportunity to claim a world height record for a Slingsby T31, simply because my passenger’s fanny was frozen.

  My second memory is of a failed attempt to fly a Slingsby Swallow from Gwelo Gliding Club to the Salisbury Gliding Club. Progress was fine initially thanks to a starting height of 14,300 feet over Gwelo. But in the Redcliff area near Que Que I could find no thermals at all. In desperation I made for the Rhodesian Iron and Steel Company works to pick up lift around a smoke column rising from the factory. The acrid smoke made me cough and splutter and I experienced eye-watering burning of my eyes. As soon as I had sufficient height to make for Que Que I broke out into clean air. On two occasions I flew towards hawks soaring in weak thermal conditions but eventually I was forced to land in a farmer’s field and await collection. Any hope of becoming a proficient high-performance glider pilot was short lived. Club life was robbing me of time I needed to spend with my family and the cost of gliding was becoming too high.

  16 PTC

  IN JULY 1962 NO 16 PTC commenced their BFS and I was allocated Officer Cadets Graham Cronshaw, Prop Geldenhuys and Chris Dixon. All three progressed normally and I made it known that I did not wish to have any of these students taken from me to satisfy any other instructor’s will. This only worked for three and a half months before my favourite student, Prop Geldenhuys, was taken away. I was given Officer Cadet du Toit who had not been shaping up with his first instructor.

  Graham Cronshaw, Prop Geldenhuys, PB and Chris Dixon.

  I had a very soft spot for Prop Geldenhuys for more reasons than his good nature; we had experienced two serious incidents together. The first of these was when I was demonstrating recovery from engine failure on a short-field take-off.