The civilian people who had been living a simple lifestyle for centuries were perplexed by the situation in which they found themselves. On the one hand the Portuguese said that the aldeamentos were there for their own protection. Protection from what they did not know because they had not yet learned to fear the politically motivated ‘comrades’ of FRELIMO. On the other hand FRELIMO told the tribesmen that they had come to “liberate the people” from the oppressive Portuguese who they must no longer obey. But the simple tribesmen could not understand ‘liberation’, never mind what they were being liberated from. The need to stay close to the spirits of their ancestors was their only wish.
The inevitable happened. As in most wars, these innocent people became involved in a tug-of-war between the Portuguese, insisting that they must be contained under armed surveillance, and FRELIMO insisting that they must be spread out in the countryside to be freely available to provide them with food, shelter and plenty of women for their comforts. Portuguese forces attacked those in the countryside. FRELIMO attacked the aldeamentos.
In these circumstances tribal unity was destroyed and families disintegrated. Those forced into the aldeamentos dared not venture out without armed protection, meagre as it was. Those who had chosen to remain in the areas of their ancestral spirits made every effort to avoid detection by either side but, inevitably, most were roped into FRELIMO’s net.
We flew low-level directly from Salisbury to the Brigade HQ at Bene, northeast of Cabora Bassa. The dam wall had not yet interrupted the Zambezi River’s flow so the river course still remained as it had been for centuries. Having watched Kariba being built in the late 1950s, we were somewhat disappointed by the small dimensions of Cabora Bassa’s concrete wall spanning the deep but narrow gorge. The dam wall had reached about half its final height and the surrounds were badly scarred by heavy earth and concrete workings. A fenced minefield ran around the perimeter.
Butch Graydon with his MAG in foreground.
Beyond the dam site, ridges and ravines gave way to gentle rolling countryside that was covered in a mix of forested areas and grassy vleis. Everything was so beautiful after good rains and there was so little evidence of human habitation that it was hard to imagine a war was in progress in the untamed region. Set in this paradise we found the base at Bene looking neat and clean yet giving no hint of the dreadful pong that we were going to encounter as we landed on the only open area within the defence lines of the base.
The stench emanated from a communal toilet facility right next to the landing zone. It was so overpowering that we had to take a few deep breaths to help us acclimatise before getting on with the job of refuelling. The latrine arrangement was one single trench line of about forty-five metres in length over which a continuous wooden seat was set with at least thirty holes for users who were afforded no privacy. Many places were rendered unusable by mislaid faeces from those preferring to squat with their filthy boots astride holes rather than sit in the manner intended by the toilets’ designer. I felt like returning to Salisbury right away.
Happily the smell did not affect the area of the messes, Ops Room and accommodation huts where waterborne toilets, though not great, worked after a fashion. The problem was that they were not hygienic. Our reluctance to use these toilets was handled in an unusual way. We ran daily ‘toilet flights’ to the top of a high domed-rock hill close to the base. Setting the helicopter down on the crest, we moved out in different directions to attend to our private needs. Our exposure against the skyline made a perfect target to any FRELIMO mortar team that might be so close to the Portuguese base, but the risk was considered worthwhile.
The whole purpose of our detachment was to establish if the Rhodesian Air Force and the Portuguese Army forces could operate effectively against FRELIMO to the mutual benefit of both countries. The first thing we needed was a briefing on current Tete operations.
Toilet run. Squatting: Tudor Tomas, Tinker Smithdorff and PB. Standing: Bob St Quinton, Randy du Rand, Butch Graydon, Mark McLean and ‘TJ’ van den Berg.
The base commander, a short, fat, bright-eyed and rather arrogant brigadier, conducted the briefing. This was translated into good English by one of his junior staff officers. We could see from the outset that military intelligence on FRELIMO’s dispositions and modus operandi was very scant and that Portuguese successes had been minimal. The capture of a single terrorist weapon following a major assault on a FRELIMO base just before our arrival was considered a ‘successful operation’. The brigadier’s boastful unveiling of a ‘score board’ astounded us because, in Rhodesian terms, it revealed pathetic returns if the costly military efforts we were hearing about were to be believed. As the briefing progressed we came to understand part of the reason for Portuguese failures.
There was no aggressive patrolling to search out FRELIMO groups and base camps. Most of the imprecise information upon which the military appeared to rely came from the aldeamento militiamen who seldom ventured beyond the fenced perimeter of their protected villages. Upon such dubious information military plans would be drawn up with detailed orders for vehicle convoys, the formations each unit would adopt when attacking and the exact timings for commencement and termination of each operation. A glance through operational orders for past events showed that conventional war methods were being employed against an elusive non-conventional enemy that was heavily schooled in the need to avoid armed confrontation in all circumstances, even when undertaking planned hit-and-run raids.
Because the brigadier sensed unspoken disapproval of his own operations, he invited the Rhodesians to illustrate to him and his staff something of the style of Rhodesian operations that he had heard were very successful. Following an impromptu briefing by Norman Walsh, who emphasised our use of aggressive ground patrols, we were briefed on a forthcoming operation we were to support.
My most vivid memory of that Portuguese operation was the length of time and effort needed to dig vehicles out of the mud along one of many poor tracks they used to get around the countryside.
In retrospect I realise that we must have appeared pretty arrogant, being so used to Rhodesian Army methods and having experienced nothing but high levels of success against our own enemies. Our contempt for the aldeamento system also sticks in my mind.
Typical Tete road conditions.
We could not accept that this system was right for Africa, possibly because our own black folk living in open villages were still providing us with intelligence on the presence of terrorists. At that time we could not visualise that, within seven years, our own situation would change so radically that we too would employ a similar system, albeit on a smaller scale.
We returned to Mozambique four times during 1969 and were always received with open arms and treated to the outstanding hospitality for which the Portuguese people in general are so well known. On my second detachment to Bene, the Portuguese were as pleasant as ever but the toilet problems had not changed one iota.
This detachment differed from the first in that we had with us three experienced RLI officers. The brigadier gave us another lengthy briefing following which he asked for a Rhodesian update briefing for the benefit of senior staff officers visiting his Brigade HQ. Norman Walsh and Captain Ron Reid-Daly made an impromptu presentation, again laying emphasis on the need for offensive patrols to seek out and destroy FRELIMO. This briefing was well received and resulted in an agreement that Portuguese soldiers would be placed under command of RLI officers to see how offensive patrolling might work in Tete Province.
After spending some time in the field, Ron Reid-Daly told us that there was nothing much wrong with the average Portuguese soldier’s fighting spirit but he lacked fire discipline, creating unnecessary noise and expenditure of ammunition. To be led from the front by Rhodesian officers was good experience for the troops at Bene. Notwithstanding language difficulties they enjoyed a new sense of confidence that made them braver soldiers through having a commander visible up front giving the silent hand signals t
hey understood. We learned that Portuguese officers born and bred in Mozambique were greatly favoured by the troops because they also led from the front. But because they were so few in number, most troops were led by metropolitan officers who commanded from any positions but right up front. This is borne out to some extent by the very high casualty levels amongst Rhodesian Army and Mozambican-born officers when compared, pro rata, to their Europe-born equivalents.
At every opportunity and with Norman Walsh’s blessings, I pursued my interest in trying to rustle up FRELIMO targets through visual reconnaissance, which I conducted at low level. I would later discover that this was very dangerous and not an efficient way of searching large tracts of ground. Nevertheless the effort proved worthwhile and assisted in generating targets for joint actions. But so poor was the quality and so vague the physical details of river-lines and surface gradients of the maps issued to us that we concluded they must have been drawn by Vasco da Gama himself. This made low-level map-reading particularly difficult.
Operating independently out of radio range of any forces was really dangerous for my technician and me. We got ourselves into hot situations on some occasions when FRELIMO, rather than going to ground as they had been taught, chose to stand upright to fire at us. Fortunately their anti-aircraft fire was still poor though we suffered moments of terror when numerous men fired their automatic weapons at very close range as we twisted right and left passing over them at treetop level. Many hundreds of rounds were fired so we were lucky to sustain only two non-critical hits through the tail boom.
In consequence of these recce flights, we provided more intelligence to the Brigade HQ in a week than had been received in a year; or so it seemed. Two young Portuguese Air Force pilots who operated single-engined Dorniers fromthe small airstrip at Bene were interested in establishing what I was finding that they themselves had been unable to find. A comparison of maps immediately revealed that they had reported almost every location I had plotted. It was hardly surprising that they were deeply distressed by this because the very same Army officers who were happily responding to my reports had been fobbing them off, month in and month out. Nowhere on the Ops Room wall map or intelligence logs was any of the Portuguese Air Force information recorded. This was not only absolutely disgraceful from our point of view; it exposed one of the greatest flaws in Portuguese operations.
Rhodesians believed that inter-force co-operation was fundamental and of paramount importance. From time to time there were hiccups, but one force never totally ignored intelligence given by another. Because of this we found it difficult to understand how inter-force jealously or rivalry, call it what you may, within the Portuguese forces could be allowed to limit their operational effectiveness against FRELIMO. Through this spirit of non-co-operation we recognised that the threat posed to Rhodesia by FRELIMO was far more serious than we had first imagined.
As with two other RLI officers, Captain Ron Reid-Daly continued to lead a small force of Portuguese troops. Ron was a pretty tough customer with considerable experience, including combat service with the SAS in Malaya. Yet he continued to believe in the ordinary Portuguese fighting soldier and was only too happy to take on FRELIMO with these men, providing he used his own FN rifle and not the Portuguese issue 7.62mm Armalite rifle.
I located a base area early one morning from barely discernible smoke rising out of heavy riverine bush west of Bene. Ron was flown in with fifteen soldiers to check it out. Before he commenced a sweep through the area I warned Ron that this might be a civilian camp. Soon after the sweep commenced a Portuguese soldier opened fire on movement he had seen. Immediately all the Portuguese soldiers let fly causing Ron great difficulty in getting them to cease firing. He too had seen human movement just before the firing started but immediately realised these were from terrified women running for their lives. Fortunately the troops had been shooting blind and casualties were limited to a mother and her baby.
Back at base I saw that the baby had been shot through the flesh of one buttock and his mother had been grazed in her flank by the same round. Kindly medical attention was given to mother and child before they were taken to an aldeamento along with all the other women brought in from the bush camp. Like so many of their kind, they had been in hiding from both FRELIMO and the Portuguese forces. Hearing this, I felt really guilty for being responsible for bringing them into Portuguese custody.
Whilst the two casualties were still being attended, a Portuguese major asked who had initiated the fire. One soldier pointed to Ron Reid-Daly intimating that he had been the first to fire. Ron’s fiery temper showed deep red in his taut face as he literally threw his rifle into the hands of the surprised major saying, “Judge this for yourself.” The embarrassed major sniffed at Ron’s FN rifle and realised that it had not been fired at all. Then, followed a severe blasting for indiscipline by all the soldiers, the unfortunate soldier who had pointed to Ron was taken off for twenty-one days’ detention.
I was not involved with other deployments to Tete that year as I had new pilots to instruct. But during one of these a very unpleasant incident occurred when, following a particular action, helicopters were recovering troops and taking civilians back to the Army base. Flying Officer Hugh Slatter landed when only five soldiers and two young African women remained. The five Portuguese soldiers made a dash for the helicopter and boarded. Hugh shook his head and hand-signalled that the two women must be lifted out first; another helicopter would return to collect the soldiers.
A Portuguese sergeant returned negative gestures then, before Hugh or his technician realised what was happening, stepped out of the helicopter shot both women dead where they stood and casually returned to his seat. Hugh’s horror and rage was such that he was simultaneously crying, screaming and drawing his pistol to shoot the sergeant. Seeing the danger, Hugh’s technician intervened and persuaded him to let the matter be handled at base. Hugh reluctantly agreed but, upon landing, he tendered his ‘immediate resignation’ to Air HQ by signal. There was a general revolt by the Rhodesians aircrews causing considerable embarrassment to the Brigade HQ staff. The Portuguese sergeant was arrested and charged with murder whilst communications went back and forth between the Mozambican and Rhodesian authorities. Though the Rhodesians were persuaded to stay on in Tete, Hugh refused point-blank to do so, preferring to face court martial rather than operate with the “murdering Portuguese forces”. He was flown back to Salisbury where considerable effort was needed to persuade him to withdraw his resignation.
Our experiences in Mozambique concerned us deeply because everyone realised that military failure in that country would have serious consequences for Rhodesia’s security. We also felt deeply for the Mozambican people, black and white, who knew their country’s future was being mishandled by their metropolitan government 10,000 kilometres away.
Judging by the results that were jointly achieved during our detachments to Tete, a continuous presence of Rhodesian forces operating with Portuguese forces would have made all the difference in curbing FRELIMO and denying ZANU and ZAPU use of the Tete Province. In fact, if we had been granted continuous access along the Zambezi River’s southern bank within Tete province this would have met our strategic needs. It would have allowed us to extend our border-control operations eastwards to capitalise on the successes we had achieved along this same river at home. Unfortunately, politics disallowed this critical advantage and history records the consequences.
Tripper operations continued on and off and Peter Briscoe had this to say to author Beryl Salt about one attachment to Portuguese forces at Chicoa in late1970:
We formed a detachment based on Chicoa on the south bank of the Zambezi just west of the Cabora Bassa Gorge. Chicoa was a hellhole. We anticipated a lengthy stay and we had learnt to take our own field kitchen and cooks. It was the rainy season and the afternoons were punctuated with the usual thunderstorms. Cleanliness was a problem so we rigged up showers. These were serviced by a tank of water that was filled from the wat
ers of the Zambezi. However, the water was chocolate brown and we ended up dirtier after the shower than before. So we found the answer—wait for a rainstorm, strip naked, bring out the soap and shampoo and use Mother Nature. Except for our feet and ankles we were clean. The only person who enjoyed shower time more than we did, was the postmistress who watched from a distance.
The thing we envied most about the Portuguese Air Force stationed at Chicoa was that their Alouette helicopter had a 20mm cannon. Compared with our 7.62 machine-gun this was a real killing machine. It was patently apparent that they had little or no idea how to operate this weapon or even service it and this was graphically demonstrated one morning when the gunner’s replacement arrived. The new incumbent had never seen a weapon like this before and was given a quick tutorial. The tutor, demonstrating how to load the gun, pulled back the moving parts and released the breechblock. He had, however, forgotten to clear the weapon. It picked up a 20mm round that went off with a fearful bang, travelled across the open ground towards the Portuguese camp, entered a tent and hit the cook who was taking his post-breakfast siesta. It removed a large part of his skull and he was casevaced to Tete by chopper. That evening the commander came over to tell us that the cook was dead. Seeing the looks of dismay on our faces, he immediately qualified his remark by saying, “Oh, don’t worry, he was a ‘sheet’ cook anyway!” We were stunned by this callous disregard for human life, but it was typical of the overall attitude.
As there seemed to be little action at one stage, we threatened to pack up camp and return to Rhodesia, which was bad news for the Portuguese Army colonel. We had just been to a scene where there had been a report of a Fred (FRELIMO) camp but it was a ‘lemon’. The Portuguese had to return by vehicle. No sooner had we landed back at Chicoa than the Portuguese Army colonel came running to our camp, in itself an unusual sight. Panting and puffing he approached Wing Commander Ozzie Penton, and, scarcely able to contain himself, he blurted out what was to become the most famous words ever uttered at Chicoa. “Colonel Penton, good news, good news, we have been ambushed!” Ozzie’s face was a picture. Recovering, he looked at the Colonel and said, “Well Colonel, if that is good news, what the hell is the bad news?” We deployed the troops but rain had washed the tracks away.
Winds of Destruction Page 34