Winds of Destruction: The Autobiography of a Rhodesian Combat Pilot

by Peter Petter-Bowyer

  Warrant Officer Tommy Minks headed 4 Squadron’s technical team, made up of a lively bunch of mischievous men. One of these was Marlow Sharp, a foul-mouthed ex-Fleet Arm type who delighted in taking the mickey out of pilots and using bad language to shock young ladies.

  When our beaten-up old Bedford van arrived from Que Que with a bevy of girls escorted by the unmarried guys they were met by Ted Brent. Always the perfect gentleman, Ted lifted the wet hessian screen that served as back door and dust trap. Then, one by one, he greeted each young lady and holding her hand helped her down the back step. Once inside the large marquee tent containing bar, food and chairs, Ted would satisfy himself that every lady was attended before retiring to his tent for a full night’s sleep. It was in the marquee that I first witnessed Marlow Sharp’s naughty antics.

  Provost armament: Teargas canisters, 4-inch rockets with 60 lb. concrete practice heads, 24 lb. practice bombs (white concrete bodies), 28 lb. Mk1 fragmentation bombs, 250 lb. GP high-explosive bomb and a parachute container for emergency delivery of medical supplies and other small items. Not shown are belts of .303 Browning machine-gun ammunition and illuminating flares. Note the squadron building and hangar. These were built at Thornhill in 1940 for the RAF’s RATG needs and were still in use beyond the ‘ 80s.

  Pilot Officer Henry Elliott had a reputation for snaffling the prettiest girls before any one of the other single fellows could make a move. However, on this particular evening, Marlow decided to turn things around. He went to a small group of girls, who he had seen sneaking looks at Henry, and said something along the lines, “Do not look now, but that good-looking pilot by the centre tent pole—such a pity about his malady. His ears are healed now. Only the deep holes behind the ears remain from where the disease started. It has moved down to his chest now, but do not be put off by that, he is well covered with special dressings so you will not smell the rotting skin." With that Marlow excused himself and left.

  In no time at all every girl had learned about Henry’s ‘rotting flesh’. As it happened Henry had deep wells behind his ears and though these were part of his natural make-up, the girls had surreptitiously checked them out. Poor Henry could not figure out why his usual ability to attract girls was failing; each one he approached found reason to drift off somewhere else. Henry’s weapons results over the following two days were pathetic until Marlow told him why the girls had avoided him. Henry’s smile returned and his weapon scores improved.

  Federal break-up

  DURING MY TOUR ON 4 Squadron the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland was dissolved by the British Government to meet black nationalist demands. Northern Rhodesia and Nyasaland, having originally been British protectorates, were both granted independence by Britain. Respectively, they were renamed Zambia and Malawi. Southern Rhodesia had been self-governing since 1923 and reverted to this status with her name reduced to Rhodesia. Britain had guaranteed that, for agreeing to the dissolution of the Federation, Rhodesia would be given full independence at the same time as Zambia and Malawi. Sadly however, the true nature of Britain’s political expediency and its policy of appeasement, as witnessed in Chamberlain’s dealings with Hitler, became fully revealed when black governments in Africa successfully pressurised Britain into reneging on this solemn undertaking. This was but the first of many broken promises and agreements that Rhodesians were to face throughout eighteen long years of communist-inspired political turbulence.

  When it came to sharing out Federal assets one of the thorniest issues was the matter of what was to be done with the RRAF. The British Government realised that the Air Force, having been built into a well-balanced force, could not simply be split three ways—this was neither practical nor sensible. It was also recognised that the majority of the costs in creating the Air Force had been borne by the people of Southern Rhodesia who, in any event, were more capable of operating the Air Force than either Zambia or Malawi. An equally important consideration was the matter of its serving personnel who had either been born in Southern Rhodesia or had set up permanent homes there.

  The only component of Air Force eventually affected by share-out was No 3 (Transport) Squadron. Six of the squadron’s aircraft, four Dakotas and two Pembrokes, were allocated to Zambia. Nothing was given to Malawi.

  Although the Federation was officially dissolved on 3 December 1963 the Royal prefix to Rhodesian Air Force was to remain until March 1970 when Rhodesia became a republic. In the meanwhile all members of the force were given three options before the break-up. These were to remain under their existing contracts, to join the Zambian Air Force with attractive incentives or, to leave the force permanently.

  The latter option was disgustingly close to an invitation to quit the service because of the excellent terminal benefits offered. To placate those who remained in service, guarantees were given that men who accepted a ‘golden handshake’ would never be accepted back into the force. These guarantees were later ignored when Rhodesia needed experienced men in troubled times. Many were allowed to rejoin and, considering the times, this was perfectly acceptable to those who had remained. What was irksome, however, was that too many returnees were coerced into rejoining with the same rank and benefits they would have enjoyed had they not left.

  Federation had been a great success yet its destruction had been forced on Rhodesia to appease black politicians bent on personal gain. Like my colleagues, I chose to ignore the dire warnings given by politicians and news media and simply put my head in the sand, got on with my work and hoped for the best. I was not alone because the majority of white Rhodesians ignored anything they preferred not to hear. Life had changed little after ten years of Federation. The beer was good, we still had the finest beef in the world and there was no shortage in any of life’s comforts.

  I recall that my biggest concern in those times was that Beryl had been incapacitated by chronic asthma for the ten months since we moved from Thornhill to Salisbury. Any amount of medical effort had been given to resolve her problem but nothing helped. Then, out of the blue, my father suggested we visit Leslie Shaw, the chiropractor. We were willing to try anything at that stage and despite our doubts paid him a visit. Beryl’s asthma was so bad that she was hardly able to take four steps in succession over the short distance from our car to his rooms.

  Leslie amazed us by saying that 90% of asthmatic problems stem from spinal misalignment. He asked me to wait for twenty minutes whilst he took Beryl off for X-rays of neck and spine to determine if her problems lay there. Happily they did and, after three further visits to Leslie Shaw over a period of ten days, he corrected Beryl’s misaligned neck and upper spine. This put an end to Beryl’s inhibiting asthmatic problems. Thanks to Leslie Shaw, and indirectly to my Dad, they have not recurred for the thirty-five years leading to this time of writing.

  Return to Thornhill

  FOLLOWING THE DISSOLUTION OF THE Federation, the RRAF found itself short on manpower, necessitating many adjustments. At the same time Salisbury Air Traffic Control was seeking a reduction in an existing high level of slow aircraft movements to improve safety and control in the face of ever-increasing volumes in jet traffic. This brought about the move of 4 Squadron back to Thornhill. At the same time Nos 5 and 6 Squadrons were amalgamated into No 5 Squadron and the Canberras moved to New Sarum. For a while, No 6 Squadron did not exist until it eventually took over 2 Squadron’s role in pilot training for BFS and AFS with 2 Squadron retaining responsibility for weapons training only.

  Beryl and I were pleased to be returning to Thornhill. However, the wind was taken out of my sails the moment the squadron taxiied into dispersals where the Station Commander, Group Captain Doug Whyte, met us.

  Having welcomed our OC, Squadron Leader John Mussell, he came to me with a broad grin on his face to say he had both good and bad news for me. The bad news was that he was taking me from the squadron for an indefinite period to be his Station Administration Officer, a post that had hitherto not existed. The good news was that I would be doing a
limited amount of flying, most of which would be developmental testing of locally manufactured weapons.

  Doug Whyte had been Station Commander in the rank of squadron leader when Thornhill was taken over from the RAF in 1955 and he remained there until my course had reached solo stage on BFS in mid-1957. Now he was back in command of a much larger station and had many things he wanted doing to get things running his way. Working directly under him was fantastic and I did not miss flying as I thought I might. The tasks I was required to perform were clear-cut, wide-ranging and quick in coming. One of these was to prepare Kutanga Range for an air weapons demonstration for cabinet ministers, African chiefs, the Army, the British South Africa Police and the press.

  Group Captain Doug Whyte welcomes Squadron Leader John Mussell to Thornhill.

  Doug Whyte.

  Kutanga Range was well known to every pilot who underwent weapons training because all had performed Range Safety Officers duties and all had enjoyed this task. Warrant Officer Nobby Clarke was the Range Warden who had a small permanent staff. One of these was John MacKenzie (Kutanga Mac), an excellent ranger who would later replace Nobby.

  The Fire Section supplied a fire Jeep and crew who were housed on the range during their seven-day stints on range duties. Three domestic workers and six labourers with their wives and children lived on the range permanently whereas Nobby and John commuted daily to their homes in the town of Que Que.

  A lone kudu at Kutanga Range.

  Surrounded by large cattle ranches, Kutanga Range was more like a game reserve than an air-weapons range. It had large expanses of mopani bushveld and an abundance of small game, the largest species being kudu. About 3,000 acres of bush had been cleared eastward from the northern boundary fence to give visibility to widely dispersed targets. Though primarily intended for air-weapons training, Army used Kutanga for field gun, armoured car, mortar and jungle-lane training. The BSAP also used the range occasionally.

  Sleeping accommodation existed for ten people and the large kitchen was able to handle many additional people whether on day visits or camping in tents. One tarmac runway and a grass runway catered for piston-engined aircraft and both could accept fully laden Dakotas. Three high, brick-under-iron roof structures, widely separated and known as quadrant huts, were used to take bearings of each rocket and bomb strike. The hut nearest the domestic area was the ‘master quadrant hut’ where the Range Safety Officer resided with radio communications to aircraft. Telephones linked it to the two secondary quadrant huts.

  Two bearings were necessary to plot the position of each projectile’s impact point. The Range Safety Officer took one bearing and received the second bearing from one or other of two secondary quadrant huts. The two bearings when applied to a plotting board gave the strike position. Each result was passed to a pilot by radio within ten seconds of his strike. When the datum lines of both quadrant huts were ‘zero’, a pilot was given one or other of the following calls: “Direct hit”, “DH” or “Coconut”. These were music to every pilot’s ear but as often as not impact error would be given along the lines “six yards, four o’clock”. Errors given at 12 o’clock were overshoots along the attack line whilst 6 o’clock errors were undershoots on the same line.

  Six three-metre-square elevated frames, numbered and set in a line, were covered with cardboard for Provosts firing .303 guns. Individual scores were recorded by physically counting the number of stick-on patches used to cover fresh bullet holes. Vampire 20mm gunnery targets were the same except that the frames were covered with stretched hessian. Scoring was also by physical count but paint was used to daub fresh strikes.

  Hunter strike.

  The same gunnery targets could not handle Hunter 30mm shoots because a single strike on any section of the frame collapsed the target. Because of this, Hunter gunnery was done on the rocket target with reliance being placed on the Range Safety Officer’s ability to judge Effectiveness of each strike. Kutanga Mac was better at this than any pilot, so Hunter gunnery training was usually deferred on those rare occasions when Mac was not available.

  The rocket and dive-bombing target was one and the same, sited about 800 metres from the master and closest secondary quadrant huts. The ‘Bull’s eye’ aiming point was a simple circular pyramid of earth that was regularly covered with whitewash. This pyramid lay at the centre of a broad-lined circle whose radius was fifteen metres. The Canberra bombing target was two-and-a-half kilometres from the master and farthermost secondary quadrant huts. It comprised a single, high pyramid of earth covered with white rocks to make target acquisition possible for the long distances involved in high and medium level bombing.

  Weapons demonstration

  THE DATE OF THE AIR-WEAPONS demonstration was set for 12 May 1964. The guest of honour was to be the Prime Minister, Mr Winston Field, whose Rhodesian Front (RF) Party had come to power following an overwhelming victory at the polls in December 1962. Well-known Federal personalities such as Sir Roy Welensky, Sir Godfrey Huggins and Edgar Whitehead had gone and a new breed of politicians was firmly in control.

  Every RF minister had seen military service in WWII and many were farmers. With the RF still settling in to govern a country facing uncertain times, Rhodesian citizens’ morale needed boosting. A demonstration of the country’s air power was expected to be helpful in this regard, though Air HQ was aiming more at establishing itself with the new breed of politicians who appeared to understand the importance of balanced military strength.

  With the able assistance of Warrant Officer Nobby Clarke, I established the lay-out of targets, seating design and location, a public address system, catering plans, parking areas for aircraft and cars and so on; all of which the CO approved. With Nobby’s men and input from Thornhill’s workshops, all targets and adequate spectator benches were constructed with time to spare. There was, however, a need for extra hands to mix mud and to hand-plaster pole and thatch structures that constituted some of the targets. I asked for and got all officer cadets of both courses then undergoing pilot training.

  No 17 PTC, being the senior course, was hoping to give 18 PTC most of the hard graft but I scotched this by separating their tasks and locations during working hours. But, out of working hours, the members of 18 PTC had a pretty torrid time. Wherever this junior course went its members had to carry teddy bears, all having personal names. No matter who a junior cadet met, he was obliged to introduce his teddy by name, then introduce teddy to the individual. This and other demeaning impositions certainly had the desired effects. The juniors so hated their seniors that they had become welded into a unified group.

  Beryl, Debbie and Paul came out to Kutanga to visit me one day and were taking tea when the junior course, having showered away mud from their bodies and dressed in clean clothes, came in for refreshments. They set themselves up in a line to introduce their teddies to Paul then Beryl and finally Debbie. I was amused to see that every teddy was being placed at Debbie’s feet, all gifts for the little girl! Things changed when the senior course arrived. In reverse order each member of the junior course came to Debbie, apologised for his error, and retrieved his teddy, much to Debbie’s disappointment.

  Notwithstanding their clean clothing, the junior course was ordered to bury a three-foot snake that the senior course had killed out on the range. First a narrow vertical grave had to be dug. When the grave was ready we watched the solemn funeral procession for a snake being borne horizontally by every hand of the junior course to the site of its vertical burial. As they marched slowly along they sang a mournful dirge composed by the senior course, their dislike of their seniors showing clearly on every face.

  Group Captain Whyte was very pleased when he flew to Kutanga to inspect the entire set-up but became annoyed when press photographers arrived, uninvited. They gave the CO a bit of a run-around wanting to film aircraft in their attack dives because this would not be possible on the day of the demonstration. The CO obliged by arranging for Nos 1 and 2 Squadrons to lay on a Hunter and a Vampir
e for the purpose. He then asked me to fly my Provost on both high- and low-level attack profiles. For the low-level profile the CO told me to make sure one particular photographer would be put off asking for anything else.

  The ‘particular’ photographer was waiting as I descended to pass over him low and fast. I could see him all the way and hoped he would chicken out because my wheels were almost in contact with the ground during the final run of 300 yards to where he stood; but I was forced to pitch up very, very, close to him. Apparently he did not budge an inch when the propeller passed over him at about three feet. He simply swung the camera around to film the aircraft climb away.

  Flight Lieutenant Ian Douglas Smith, North Africa 1942 .

  On the very day of the weapons demonstration we learned that a new man had replaced Winston Field as Prime Minister. None of us knew who Ian Smith was at that time and had no way of knowing how this WWII pilot would influence everything we did and thought.

  However he did not attend the weapons demonstration because he knew that Winston Field was really looking forward to the event, having been invited as guest of honour.

  On a small knoll comfortable padded seats were set out for VIPs in the shadow of a secondary quadrant hut. Below this, row upon row of fixed wooden benches provided seating for the African chiefs and other guests.

  AVM Bentley sitting with the chiefs and Civil Service observers.

  The first demonstration was announced as four Provosts peeled over in line astern diving steeply, each to deliver eight British-made 28-pound fragmentation bombs against the closest target that was about 500 metres away. The loud crrrumping denotations of each cluster of bombs following close upon each other had all the African chiefs and African soldiers diving for cover with loud cries of fear. When the Provosts cleared, they all rose cheering, dusting themselves off, laughing loudly and slapping each other on the back.