Détente
ACROSS THE ZAMBEZI RIVER TO our north, Zambia continued to be openly hostile to Rhodesia. The Portuguese were already passing control of Mozambique to the unprepared leadership of their former enemy who would soon give ZANLA open access to Rhodesia’s entire eastern flank. To the west Botswana was showing increasing signs of willingness to allow ZIPRA access to our entire western flank and, to our south the Government of South Africa seemed to be pressurising Ian Smith by deliberately interfering with the free flow of vital imports. So, all around us the signs were ominous as 1974 drew to its close.
Within Rhodesia the score in CTs killed and captured was mounting rapidly, though there was absolutely no room for complacency and, as already stated, our war supplies were often too low for comfort. It was only a matter of weeks before Mozambique’s ports would be lost to Rhodesia and, being a landlocked country, this left us totally dependent on South African for all our imports and exports. This new situation brought with it very unpleasant changes in South Africa’s political posture, not that the South African Defence Forces or the general public of South African ever wavered in their support to Rhodesia.
Following the collapse of the Portuguese, détente became the tool by which Prime Minister Vorster and a limited number of his party faithful intended to gain favour with Black Africa’s political leaders. Détente was the route by which Vorster hoped to reduce African antagonism toward his party’s apartheid policies. Furthermore, he seemed to have written off the Zambezi River as a natural defence line against communism now that half of its previously useful length was lost. The longstanding relationship between South Africa and Rhodesia, one of unquestioning friendship and co-operation, was changing to one in which Rhodesia had become the vital pawn in Vorster’s détente game.
This situation forces me to run a little ahead in time, because détente would surpass every political danger Rhodesia had ever faced in its fight to retain responsible government. For the likes of me, first signs of serious trouble came in early August 1975 with the sudden withdrawal of the majority of South African Police units. This suggested to us that Vorster was being outmanoeuvred by black governments, yet his obsession with détente continued. If senior military commanders understood what was going on, it was not being passed down the line to operators in the field. The loss of the SAP impacted badly on our own overstretched forces and I guess it must have angered those SA Policemen who served in Rhodesia. Nevertheless there was for us no alternative but to keep our noses to the grindstone.
From the outset men of the South African Police forces that were sent to Rhodesia were totally untrained in bush warfare and this never really improved because South Africa’s move to assist us was heavily motivated by self-interest. Men trained for riot control and other policing duties in South Africa were sent to Rhodesia to gain on-the-job training in counter-insurgency operations. As soon as they became proficient, they were substituted by a new batch of men. Nevertheless, their numbers had been of great assistance and they were sorely missed. The removal of the SAP through acquiescence of politically manipulated Police commanders was one thing, but the South African armed services’ reaction to political pressure seems to have been very different.
Even before the withdrawal of the SAP, SAAF had increased helicopter and crew levels in a scheme known as Operation Polo. The substantial improvement in helicopter numbers was to help offset the loss of over 2,000 South African Police, but again, it suited South Africa to have its aircrews gain ‘on-the-job’ operational experience. No criticism is intended because this was a sensible line to follow and Rhodesians were only too pleased to build on strong bonds that already existed with the SAAF.
Initially an Air Force major headed the Op Polo crews but he made a bit of a mess of things when he forced rank to flying K-Car lead before gaining any Fireforce experience. This caused such a nonsense with the Army that, thereafter, only captains and lieutenants remained to fly Z-Cars until, at a later time, the Op Polo crews on detachment wore Rhodesian Air Force uniforms and ranks.
A SAAF liaison officer was permanently attached to Air HQ. A number of wing commanders (SAAF rank— commandant) and squadron leaders (SAAF rank—major) occupied this post over the years and all of them proved to be excellent men who handled the few problems that arose quickly, quietly and efficiently. All the South Africans enjoyed their participation in operations and found the Rhodesian military living standards, at base and in the field, to be better than those back home. They also enjoyed their attachments to our Air Force for another reason. When in Rhodesia the officers and men received a handsome daily allowance whilst their regular pay accumulated to sizeable sums for collection on return to home bases.
Authentication of pseudo groups
ON 24 AUGUST 1974 I LED an attack on a camp that appeared to be occupied. Although the camp appeared fresh, and was unmistakably CT in pattern and location, it was unusual in that sun reflections blinked off tins and other items of litter. I had not seen this before. The Fireforce troops I called upon reported that the camp had been vacated that morning and that the litter was from Rhodesian ration pack items left lying about by Selous Scouts. Ron Reid-Daly hotly denied that the position had been a Scouts base and made the point that his men were never issued with ratpacks (Rhodesian Army ration packs). Certainly I had not ever seen litter in Selous Scouts pseudo bases, and I saw many of them. From my own observations, litter was associated with Police and TF callsigns operating from high points on ground surveillance work. However, though no one owned up to being responsible for the litter in this camp, much fuss was made of the matter and littering ceased to be a problem.
Although the Selous Scouts were doing extremely well they sometimes ran into difficulties when tribesmen appeared so uncertain of their identity that they became reluctant to co-operate with the pseudo teams. In order to gain the locals’ confidence, which was of paramount importance, Ron occasionally arranged a Fireforce action on the bases his men were using. This was potentially dangerous because, for security reasons, it was necessary to conduct genuine Fireforce actions in which only two officers in the K-Car knew that the men on the ground were Selous Scouts and not CTs.
To ensure that the locals were totally impressed, the pseudo ZANLA group needed to pull out of its camp position only seconds ahead of leading air strikes, and certainly before the arrival overhead of the K-Car. The pseudo ZANLA men, using cover off to one side of their ‘abandoned camp’, would impress the locals by sending up heavy fire, aimed well behind passing aircraft, though tracer rounds were not used by the pseudos and the airborne Army commander deliberately kept his troops well clear of the pseudo CT position. This was a dangerous game and there were some close shaves.
ZIPRA plans upset
SPECIAL BRANCH IN BULAWAYO HAD managed to break into ZIPRA’s network of agents in Matabeleland, thereby discovering the location of many pits that had been prepared to receive large quantities of war matériel from Zambia. ZIPRA was clearly intent on getting internal operations moving to counter all the glory that was going ZANLA’s way. Quite unrelated to this was the discovery through Canberra photographic reconnaissance over Zambia, of a large hole in a remote place north of the Zambezi River between Victoria Falls and the headwaters of Lake Kariba.
In the latter half of 1974 the SAS enjoyed a change from Tete ops by moving into Zambia to investigate ZIPRA’s activities in a large region south of the main road from Livingstone to Lusaka. Amongst other things, their reconnaissance revealed that ZIPRA cadres were involved with intensive manual work at the site of the hole the Air Force had found. The sounds of sawing and hammering led the SAS to the firm conclusion that a major underground arms store was in the making. The Air Force was asked to monitor the site regularly and report on progress. The resultant photographs showed conclusively that the SAS had been correct in their assessment. Now it was a matter of waiting the right moment for ZIPRA to complete the construction of this huge underground bunker and fill it with war matéri
el. Equally important was to strike before the onset of the rains when ZIPRA was most likely to commence moving equipment forward to the prepared sites in Rhodesia.
In early October over forty SAS men moved in after aerial photographs showed that many vehicles had been to the cache site, which by then was totally covered over. They killed all the sentries in a set-piece dawn action involving assault and stop groups. Having secured the site the cache was inspected. Those who had a chance to enter the massive store were shaken by the quantities and variety of war matériel that far exceeded their wildest expectations, but the volume was so great that only half an inventory count had been completed when carefully laid demolition charges were ready to wreck ZIPRA’s planning.
No thanks to the restraints of détente, it was impossible to consider recovery to Rhodesia of anything from this monstrous find. For the SAS it was painful to destroy so much brand-new equipment, all of which would have been so useful in their own hands.
The big bang that followed set ZIPRA back for something in the order of a year. It was to be the first in a series of seemingly endless setbacks for ZIPRA.
7 Squadron gains at 4 Squadron’s expense
THROUGHOUT 1974 MY SQUADRON HAD been losing experienced pilots and technicians on posting to helicopters. Pilot replacements coming directly off PTC courses placed a continuous load on 4 Squadron both at Thornhill and in the field. In consequence Rob Tasker at base and myself in the field were both tied to instruction throughout the latter half of the year.
Due to the nature of helicopter operations 7 Squadron’s morale had always been good. However with the on-take of operationally experienced pilots and technicians there came an infusion of the naughty spirit that had developed on 4 Squadron. The antics of two of the technicians, Henry Jarvie and Phil Tubbs, though generally conducted in a spirit of good fun, forced OC 7 Squadron to rule against both men ever being attached to the same FAF together. Stories about these two, as well as those of others, would not pass censorship.
One antic Henry Jarvie was often asked to perform was his Sumo wrestler’s act. His scrawny build, exaggerated poses and noisy grunts with underpants stretched upward to the limit was guaranteed to make the most spiritless observer laugh.
Sumo Jarvie.
Helicopter technicians had to be proficient at both ends of hoisting operations. Pilots also had to do this to ensure their proficiency in responding to the hoist operator’s directions on positioning and height over points not visible to them.
Henry’s sense of occasion on 7 Squadron was just as it had been on my squadron. This was demonstrated when he was being instructed in hoisting. Pilots and technicians were taught how to lower or raise men in and out of places where helicopters could not land. Whilst operating the hoist a technician had to give a running commentary to the pilot who could not see the cable position. This was one component of hoist training. Another involved being lowered on the cable and learning how to effect the recovery of injured persons.
Henry had heard that any new pilot or technician undergoing hoist training was likely to be dunked in Prince Edward Dam whilst he was suspended helpless at the end of the hoist cable. Having made certain that Fynn Cunningham would be training him, Henry changed into the man’s uniform jacket, slacks, shirt, tie, socks and shoes. Over these clothes he wore his regular flying overalls and pulled its zipper right up to his chin.
When the time came to make his first descent, he was lowered onto a very high rock near the edge of Prince Edward Dam. From this rock he was lifted upwards and, as expected, flown through the air until over the water. The pilot, Roger Watt, then came to a hover and descended until Henry disappeared under water. Fynn Cunningham, operating the hoist, did not see Henry slip out of his harness below the surface of murky water and got one heck of a fright when the helicopter lifted to reveal an empty harness. Roger Watt also became agitated when Henry failed to reappear. Unbeknown to pilot and technician, Henry was swimming underwater heading for the shore. Suddenly he popped up some distance away at the edge of the dam. Stomping around to ensure that the shoes he was wearing filled with sticky black mud, Henry waved for uplift. When back inside the cabin, Henry put on his flying helmet and grinned broadly at Fynn who wanted to know why Henry was looking so smug. “I am wearing your uniform, that’s why!”
Fynn did not believe Henry and forgot about the matter until he went to his locker at work’s end. His clothing was so wet and his shoes and socks so mud-filled and sodden that he was forced to return home in working overalls and shoes with his wet uniform and service shoes wrapped in muttoncloth.
Ceasefire
ALTHOUGH I WAS IN THE field for most of the time, I could not participate directly in the excitement of increasingly successful operations as 1974 closed. I found it difficult to be content with listening in on Fireforce actions whilst continuing with my losing battle to produce replacement recce pilots. Because of this, news of my posting to Air HQ brought prospects of a much-welcomed break and opportunity to spend time with my family.
My hackles were raised on my first day in Air HQ when an officer one rank senior to me foolishly but officially questioned my handling of men. He accused me of being the only squadron commander ever to have completed three years in command without making or hearing a single charge against any one of his squadron’s personnel. I responded by saying I was proud of the fact that my flight commanders, squadron warrant officer and senior technicians had handled the men in a manner that produced results but avoided having ever to resort to punitive measures. I reminded him of the fact that Chris Weinmann might still be alive had I not asked for him to ensure the maintenance of discipline, whereupon I became somewhat aggressive and asked to be appraised of my squadron’s failure to meet any of its obligations in the field and at base. This officer, who over time had proven to be a lone antagonist toward me, admitted that there had been no failure whatsoever and immediately changed direction by saying he was not criticising me but merely ‘making an observation’. He had never seen flying service in bush operations—enough said!
Cyril White
From my own very selfish point of view, relinquishing command of 4 Squadron occurred at an ideal moment because a ceasefire came into effect on 11 December 1974. Following three years in command with only one three-week break, it felt great to hand over 4 Squadron to Squadron Leader Cyril White and return to our own home in Salisbury.
South Africa’s Prime Minister Vorster and Zambia’s President Kaunda, in another of their détente initiatives, had orchestrated the ceasefire.
The nationalists, Joshua Nkomo of ZAPU and Robert Mugabe of ZANU, had been released from detention to attend talks in Lusaka that helped bring about this farce and our forces were under orders not to interfere with any CT group exiting the country.
The ceasefire could not have come at a worse time for Rhodesia. For the first time terrorist numbers within the country were diminishing rapidly, primarily through Selous Scouts-generated Fireforce successes, and their areas of influence had shrunk in spite of the continued inflow of those CTs who managed to bypass the SAS in Tete. Security Force morale was high whereas almost every CT group had been broken up, forcing union of surviving elements under diminishing direction and reduced qualities in leadership. Externally ZANLA was in disarray. Yet here we were being ordered to let the enemy off the hook! Many ZANLA groups made the best of the opportunity to get back to Mozambique to regroup and rethink strategy whilst taking with them hundreds of youngsters to be trained in Tanzania and Mozambique.
For servicemen who had fought so hard, this situation was scandalous!
There was no honest explanation forthcoming from our leadership to reduce our frustrations from knowing that the ceasefire would surely fail and that ZANLA was being given sorely needed opportunity to reorganise and prepare for operations along the entire length of Mozambique’s border, now entirely in FRELIMO’s control.
Yet here we were under orders to sit back as very unwilling members of a ‘Mushroo
m Club’ that kept us in the dark and fed us shit! Despite the silence we could see that what was happening was so madly wrong that our government was surely being blackmailed. There was simply no other explanation!
We were not to know, officially that is, that Rhodesia was being used as a pawn by Prime Minister Vorster to appease Kaunda, Nyerere and the rest of Africa to gain favour and divert attention away from South Africa’s apartheid problems. Nor were we supposed to know that subtle pressure was being applied on Ian Smith’s government through the deliberate slowing down or withholding of vital supplies moving up from South Africa. It was known to us, however, that Rhodesia had often been dangerously low on fuel and munitions due to ‘South African Railways bottlenecks’. We had become somewhat accustomed to the ‘free world’ governments knocking us but to think that South Africa might be doing the same seemed incomprehensible! I remember wondering in my anger why we did not make a direct approach to the Kremlin to circumvent so-called friends and make a short-cut deal that would allow us to get on with our normal lives. I know this makes no sense but to still believe so strongly in British standards and be treated in such shoddy manner by the ‘free world’’ including, possibly, South Africa, made my mind tip.
Dakotas dropped thousands of leaflets on the night of 11 December declaring the ceasefire. The leaflets offered amnesty and freedom to terrorists who handed themselves over to any Rhodesian authority. The entire operational area then went quiet for ten days before an offensive CT action occurred on 20 December.
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