The Kalahari Killings

by Jonathan Laverick

  Although Hednesford was new and had good amenities, accommodation was still basic. Gordon would have shared a large wooden hut with nineteen other raw recruits, something of a shock for a young man who had been considered too frail for his local school. This certainly was something of a coming of age. He would have met men from all over the UK and Gordon would have learned to make friends quickly. The village of Hednesford was within walking distance and the local pubs would have played their part in this male bonding.

  After four months intensive training, Gordon Edwards left the Technical School as a qualified mechanic. In addition, he would have had a better understanding of RAF traditions.

  BECHUANALAND, 1940

  A small dot moved slowly across the huge metallic blue dome that formed the roof to the Kalahari Desert. The modern aeroplane, thousands of feet above the sand, merely served to emphasise the unchanging land known locally as the Kgalagadi or ‘The Great Thirstland’. A country similar in size to France, Bechuanaland was home to less than 250,000 people in 1940 and the landscape gave clues as to why this was so. The vast Kalahari covered nearly four-fifths of the protectorate, with rain being limited to the devilishly hot summer months that ran from October to April. Only in the top western corner did the magnificent inland delta of the Okavango give any relief from the stunted bush that dotted the rest of the country.

  Bechuanaland had always been something of an outlier in the British Empire, and visitors often left its barren land with the feeling that it had remained a separate country largely because nobody wanted it. This was especially true of anybody who came during the harsh dry season, when visiting British officials would look on in wonder at how any of the thousands of cattle could survive such conditions. This impression of ‘unwantedness’ was wide of the mark, however, and the story of how it became that rarest thing, a British Protectorate, is a fascinating one.

  The Tsodilo Hills that mark the far north-western corner of the country had been inhabited for at least 19,000 years, with evidence left in caves by generations of the original inhabitants. These were the San, the Baswara, the Khoi or simply the Bushmen, and for the next 17,000 years they were the sole guardians of the land, but the next two millennia would see them forced into the harshest parts of the country or become little more than serfs and all but written out of history.

  Often thought of as hunter-gatherers, these first inhabitants had, by the second century AD, started to keep livestock, definitely sheep and probably cattle, and some groups started to live in settled villages. While hunting and gathering of wild food formed an important part of life, it was now a supplement to their livestock and crop growing. Knowledge of pot-making seems to have arrived at the same time as the domestic animals, and it is probable that these had arrived through trade with people from East Africa.

  Perhaps following on from this trade, Bantu-speaking people started to trickle down both sides of the Kalahari around AD 300, bringing with them knowledge of iron working. Originally from the Cameroon region of West Africa, these black Africans had spread to the Great Lakes area and it was probably here that they acquired the knowledge of millet and sorghum, and possibly gained cattle too. Others had travelled down the west coast and probably relied more on goats. Few in number, they appear to have had peaceful relations with the already present Khoisan, trading and inter-marrying. There also seems to have been borrowing from each other’s beliefs and customs as the Bantu continued to spread south, into what is now South Africa.

  The start of the second millennium saw a rise of competing Bantu chiefdoms. These involved various cattle-herding peoples who would supplement their food with meat gained from hunting. One major group settled around the Serowe area, with a capital at Toutswe Hill that supported kraals of cattle and goats in surrounding villages. The Toutswe would hunt into the Kalahari to the west and trade with the growing civilisations to the east. Shells from the distant Indian Ocean were used as currency in these early transactions, and these found their way all around the Kalahari region.

  The Toutswe were eventually conquered by their trading partners, the Mapungubwe, sometime in the thirteenth century, but while Toutswe was abandoned, other villages survived. The Mapungubwe themselves would be soon incorporated into Great Zimbabwe, a civilization made rich by their control of the Shashe gold trade. Great Zimbabwe and its successor, the Batua state, controlled not only the gold trade but also salt from the great Makgadikgadi Pans. When this empire collapsed, the Batua people in Botswana became known as the Kalanga and inhabited the north-east of the country.

  The scene was then set for the rise of the Tswana. By the seventeenth century the Sotho or Tswana people stretched from the Transvaal in modern South Africa to the current Namibian border. These descendants from the early eastern stream of Bantu settlers were now formed into related cattle keeping clans. As land was overgrazed they would move on to better pastures, eventually bringing them to south-eastern Botswana. These clans, tribes or merafe shared customs and a belief system based on a creator god, Modimo. Other lesser gods were spirits of their earliest ancestors. They also had a class-based system, led by the Kgosi, or chief, and the royal family. People from other Batswana tribes who had joined the merafe were next, followed by people from non-Batswana clans. The Khoisan were known for the first time as Basarwa and these were never admitted to the merafe. Instead, they were often treated as slaves, forced to work in the fields or to herd cattle for little reward. These groups varied in size, but the largest probably had around 10,000 members by around 1800. Despite this, the Batswana had little political or military might.

  Difaqane is the name given to the disaster that befell the Batswana next. Literally meaning ‘hordes of people’ it might not be a perfect description, but it does give an impression of the chaos it brought. The causes of this dislocation were many, but all of them put inward pressure on the Batswana tribes. The slave trade was flourishing, and Maputo and Delagoa Bay on the east coast had become major centres in the trade of humans. There was money to be made and African chiefs were encouraged to raid each other for slaves, being armed by Europeans to do so. These raids also meant that crops and cattle were stolen. Griqua bandits raided the area just to the south of Botswana, often selling their slaves to white farmers.

  Far to the south, Shaka Zulu’s reign caused panic in the tribes above his expanding empire. Many of these fled north and north-westwards, some travelling as far as Tanzania before settling. On their journey they raided Batswana settlements for food and cattle. Worse was to follow, as Mzilikazi broke away from Shaka’s rule with 300 warriors. On his way to the Magaliesburg Mountains, to the west of where Pretoria would be built, he collected a veritable horde of people. He cleared his new land of any potential enemies, including many Batswana. From here, Mzilikazi sent out raiding parties for both cattle and people. The Batswana clans could not cope with these constant raids and many broke into smaller groups and moved further into what would become Botswana. The whole region was full of small wandering bands of people, looking for food and safety.

  The expansion of Dutch-speaking white farmers, the Boers, up from the Cape, avoiding British rule, was an additional pressure on the peoples of southern Africa. Believing in their God-given right to the land, some pushed as far as the Transvaal, settling on what appeared to be empty land. In fact, the region they chose had until recently been the home to Batswana before Mzilikazi had chased them away. Mzilikazi soon learned of the arrival of the Boers and sent two of his regiments to deal with them. Despite losing their cattle, by circling their wagons the farmers managed to survive this first attack. Relieved by a new party of Boers, the farmers went on the attack, aided by a significant party of Batswana warriors. The Batswana were officially there to help the white men recover their cattle but there must have been an element of revenge for them. Mzilikazi was being harried by Zulus to the south and a steadily increasing number of Boers to the east. He decided to make a move north, terrorising eastern Botswana as he passed through.
r />   This disruption lasted for nearly fifty years, but by 1840 the Tswana kingdoms of the Ngwaketse, Kwena and Ngwato were in place to form the beginnings of a new state. These had been formed by chiefs gathering up their people, who had been spread far and wide by the troubles, and by incorporating smaller merafe. After the Difaqane the Kgosi realised that the only way to protect themselves from outside influences was to be well armed. The trade of ivory paid for guns, which allowed for more successful hunting. Soon the great elephant herds around the Orange and Molopo Rivers had been destroyed. This hunting moved gradually northwards, until there was no big game left in the southern half of Botswana. This growing trade route, which also saw fur and ostrich feathers make their way down wagon routes to the Cape Colony more than 1,000 miles away, also attracted missionaries. These included the famous Doctor David Livingstone. He was responsible for the conversion of King Sechele I, chief of the Kwena in Molepolele, although Christianity struggled to catch on with his tribesmen. Livingstone was also responsible for the first church and school to be built in Botswana, at Koboleng, not far from the current capital, Gaborone. These were destroyed by Boer farmers after they had fallen out with their recent Tswana allies.

  A little further north, a German missionary by the name of Heinrich Schulenburg worked to convert members of the Ngwato at their capital, Shoshong. In his second year he carried out his first nine baptisms, which included Khama and Khamane, two sons of the king, Sekgoma. When the London Missionary Society (LMS) replaced the German in 1862, the two boys were enrolled in the school run by Elizabeth Price. Khama’s popularity and easy disposition were noted and he would become a star LMS pupil in more ways than one. However, political interference by the LMS almost cost him his birthright. The missionaries were frustrated that the king, Sekgoma, refused to convert and did not want to upset his ancestors by ending tribal traditions, such as initiations for young men and bride price for women. This, along with Khama’s marriage to a Christian, drove a rift between the king and his heir. With LMS help, Sekgoma was dethroned and a Christian outsider imposed; however, all this succeeded in achieving was the reconciliation between father and son, and together they soon had Sekgoma back on the throne. The peace did not last long and Khama took his followers to Serowe and from there launched an attack on his father. Within a month Khama was King Khama III.

  With Shoshong becoming less fertile and suffering from unreliable water supplies, the Bangwato relocated to Khama’s new stronghold of Serowe. From here Khama became widely known as an enlightened leader, introducing new Western technology such as wagons and ox-drawn ploughs. He also stuck with his Christian faith, cracking down on initiation services and traditional beliefs as well as prohibiting alcohol from his territories. The LMS became the state church, with Khama banning other missionaries and the construction of competing churches.

  Just as stability was restored, Khama was faced with two new problems in the form of competing Europeans. Germans were encroaching from German South-West Africa (modern Namibia), while Boers were making constant raids from the south-east, partly with an eye to possible gold fields. Khama appealed to the British who considered the Tswana as allies against the Boers, and a protectorate was declared in 1880. This initially encompassed the lands as far north as Khama’s kingdom before being extended to the Chobe River five years later, finalising the borders of Bechuanland. Somewhat amazingly, the newest country in the Empire was soon the scene of Britain’s first use of military air power when a balloon regiment was sent to help counter Boer raids in 1883.

  Khama and his headmen around 1882. (Council for World Mission archive, SOAS Library – CWM/LMS/Africa Photographs Box 6 file 42 25)

  The new country was still under threat though, this time from a megalomaniac Englishman. Cecil Rhodes was already using the road through Bechuanaland to reach Zimbabwe, soon to be Rhodesia, and had his eye on the empty spaces of the Kalahari. The LMS helped organise a direct appeal to the British people by shipping the three most important chiefs, Sechele I, Khama III and Bathoen I, to the UK. Here, assisted by W.C. Willoughby of the LMS, the three kings toured the country and caused quite a stir, as can be imagined. With public opinion on their side they returned home with a rare victory for Africans. Rhodes and the British South African Company had to settle for only land rights to build a railway through the eastern side of the country to Bulawayo.

  Despite many Batswana fighting with the British in the Anglo-Boer war, the British Government maintained an arm’s length approach to the protectorate. With the formation of South Africa in 1910, the British promised that the three High Commission Territories, Bechuanaland, Lesotho and Swaziland, would one day be handed over to the Union. This terrified the Batswana chiefs, who had first-hand experience of how the Boers treated Africans. With the rise of Hertzog, and an increasingly racist Boer regime in the south, the British secretary of state for the colonies made a visit to the three territories in the mid-1920s. He left in no doubt of the view of the Batswana chiefs. Bechuanaland maintained popular support in the UK Parliament, despite the cost of an admittedly tiny administration, and a promise of consultation before any decision was made. Relationships between the administration and the chiefs were generally good, although the fact that the administrative capital was Mafeking, over the border in South Africa, gives some idea of how important the British considered the territory.

  Khama III ruled until his death at 87 in 1923 when he was succeeded by his son Sekgoma II. Unfortunately, the new king survived in the post only a little over a year, leaving an infant called Seretse as heir. Given the new king’s age it was decided that Seretse’s uncle Tshekedi should act as regent – a decision that would have far reaching consequences.

  SCOTLAND, 1941

  A Hurricane flopped onto the grass runway and taxied in towards a waiting group of pilots, but they ignored its engine’s dying coughs as they gazed upwards in unison at the graceful shape approaching. They had waited a long time for this moment, and had been joined in their vigil by most of the ground crew. With a flick of its elliptical wing the newcomer rolled over and dived towards the airfield, sending the onlookers scattering in all directions. Loops and rolls followed before a perfect three-point landing saw the first of a new breed join 111 Squadron. The Supermarine Spitfire had arrived and Gordon Edwards was as excited as anybody else on the Scottish airfield.

  Treble-one Squadron had endured a busy start to the war and were having a well deserved rest on the east coast of Scotland. Formed in Palestine during the First World War, the unit had gained fame as the first to re-equip with Hawker Hurricanes when the first examples arrived at Northolt in December 1937. The Hurricane was a huge leap forward for the Royal Air Force, replacing decidedly obsolete biplanes, and 111 were understandably proud of their new mounts. Their commanding officer had added to their air of superiority when he flew a Hurricane from Turnhouse, Edinburgh to Northolt, London at an average speed of 409 miles per hour. Given the fact the maximum speed of the early Hurricanes was only 320 mph, this was clearly weather assisted and the feat earned the Squadron Leader the nickname of ‘Downwind Gillan’ in the British press.

  When the war started, 111 were lucky to be one of the few Hurricane squadrons not to be sent to France to cover the ill-fated British Expeditionary Force. Instead, their main targets in the opening months of the conflict were rogue barrage balloons. The squadron shot down at least eleven of these inflated monsters that had escaped their bounds during the first six weeks of the war. A move to Northumberland was followed by a move further north to Drem to give cover to the Navy base at Scapa Flow. However, the squadron had returned south in time for the Battle of France. Though based once more at Northolt, the squadron often operated from forward bases in France to try and slow down the German advance. This gave the squadron its first taste of combat against fighter opposition. During the brief fight for France the squadron was credited with thirteen kills, but in return it had sacrificed five of its Hurricanes and, more importantly, three of its p
ilots. Like Al Deere’s 74 Squadron, 111 was then involved in the evacuation of Dunkirk, doing their best to provide aerial cover for the soldiers making their way to the beaches. The fact that much of the combat took place out of sight of the troops led to accusations by some in the Army that the Air Force was not doing its job.

  With France conquered and most of Europe under Nazi control, the Germans looked across the English Channel to their next target. The Wehrmacht knew that this thin strip of water provided a formidable obstacle, one that without control of the air would be impossible to overcome. The scene was set for the Battle of Britain.

  During the battle, whenever possible, 111 Squadron and its Hurricanes were targeted against German bombers, leaving the Messerschmitts to the sleeker Spitfires. The unit earned a reputation for daring head-on attacks against the massed Heinkels, Dorniers and Junkers. By the middle of August, the Luftwaffe was targeting RAF airfields, but Northolt escaped the worst of the bombing. Perhaps this was due to the base commander, Group Captain Stanley Vincent, who had decided to camouflage the station to blend in with its London suburbs. Hangers had been painted to look like houses, complete with gardens, and a stream painted across the main runway. During this period 111 also operated from a number of satellite airfields around London, such as Croydon and Debden. If they were relatively lucky on the ground, then life in the air was taking its toll. The squadron suffered heavy losses during August and when the Luftwaffe switched targets to concentrate on London, the squadron became busier still.