On the third day I crossed the river to the South African side, where my dad picked me up. Two days later my car was packed and I was ready to join André Diedericks for our excursion to Lubango. It would turn out to be the experience of a lifetime.
Diedies had chosen his most trusted team for the job. A three-man team was needed for the target and so José da Costa had been pulled in as the third man. Boet Swart would be the mission commander in the Tac HQ at Ondangwa, Dave Scales in charge of signals, and Dave Drew was the intelligence officer. Even the helicopter crews from 19 Squadron were the cream of the crop: two stalwarts, Commandant John Church and Captain Gees Basson, would pilot the two Pumas.
We would infiltrate by helicopter to the mountains southwest of the target, then move on foot towards Lubango along a route straddling the highest ridges. Da Costa would remain on the high ground immediately southwest of the town to maintain comms or initiate emergency procedures, while Diedies and I would penetrate the airfield. Once on the apron where the aircraft were parked, we would split up and each work our way down the two lanes of MiGs.
The intelligence presented to us in Pretoria covered everything in the greatest detail. The positions of the FAPLA, Cuban and SWAPO deployments were meticulously plotted. With the assistance of the aerial photo interpreters, we “flew” every inch of the infiltration route, utilising the fancy stereoscopes. We plotted a primary LZ and some alternatives for rappelling from the helicopters. In the end I had mind-walked a hundred times the route I was to navigate. We even mapped out most of our lying-up places. We knew the layout of the target so intimately I could almost have done the operation blindfolded.
With the experts from EMLC, we did revision of the Tiller charges, once again going through the arming procedure and safety measures.
Soon we were off to Phalaborwa to prepare and rehearse. Diedies and I jacked up our knowledge of Portuguese phrases and again spent many hours rehearsing on the runway of Hoedspruit air base in the dark hours of the night. We became such masters at the art of stalking that I was actually looking forward to the exhilarating adrenaline rush on the night of the penetration. I had not entirely overcome my fear, but at least it was more contained and I now knew how to channel it.
The operational team did final touch-ups and spent the last three days in Pretoria, mostly fattening up and briefing HQ on the final plan. I used the time to work through my “fear-control” plan with Johnny Koortzen. He made me talk through the rehearsals and describe how we had mastered the stalking techniques. I had to explain how good our equipment was and how well prepared we were. After these sessions, and once I’d worked through the “self-talk” techniques, I could imagine nothing but success. Mentally, I was as prepared for the operation as I could ever be.
The sessions with Johnny had the added advantage that they would help Small Team operators in future. I noted down all the techniques and later captured them in a staff paper that would be incorporated in Small Team training manuals. In this way I compiled a series of lessons on so-called soft issues under headings such as “Self-motivation during small team operations”, “Control of fear and panic”, “Compiling a diet for long-term deployments” and a range of other aspects not covered in conventional training manuals.
While I was riding the crest of the wave in my professional life, the same could not be said about my personal life. Zelda wanted a bigger commitment, but I wasn’t ready for a more serious relationship. We loved spending time together, but life at 5 Recce was fast and frenetic and I wasn’t ready to settle down yet. She sensed my wavering, but never challenged me with an ultimatum.
The uncertain status of our relationship was disconcerting, especially since, at that time, I needed the reassurance that things were okay back home. However, the situation was entirely the result of my own immaturity. I simply didn’t have the skills to handle it.
For both of us, breaking up was an extremely emotional experience. We were at a resort outside Pretoria, enjoying each other’s company and whiling away the hours. I was intent on ending the relationship, as I was about to depart on my most dangerous mission thus far. I was afraid of not coming back to her, and didn’t want her to sit and wait for me. Without my knowing, Zelda had bought me a pullover as a gift – a sort of truce to initiate a new beginning in our relationship. However, she sensed what was about to happen and gave me the present before I could say anything.
There was a powerful emotional connection between us, and we felt a mutual attachment that, I had to admit, although it came too late to rebuild the relationship, may have been love. In the end, we parted that day without bringing the relationship to a decisive end, but both of us knew the coming mission would be a watershed. We wanted to be close to each other, but my decision not to commit made it impossible.
While I was trying to untangle myself from my relationship with Zelda, Diedies was by now a married man. Of course, I used the opportunity to give him a hard time for bending his own rules by getting married, especially without my consent. His wife, Rietjie, had been appointed communications officer at 5 Recce and lived in Phalaborwa. Although she did not have direct access to the latest intelligence or the team’s movements, she still worked closely enough with the intelligence section to have a fairly good idea of what was happening. This of course didn’t make things easier for Diedies.
9
Three Crosses at Lubango:
Operation Abduct 2, November-December 1987
“Where there is much light, the shadow tends to be deep.”
WE DEPARTED FOR Ondangwa on a regular scheduled SAAF flight. Although we wore standard-issue bush hats and tried to blend in with the rest of the crowd flying to the war zone, we still stood out like sore thumbs. For one thing, José da Costa’s huge frame was hard to miss, and, for another, the Recces always “hid” their weapons in non-standard (but very obvious!) rifle bags. Even the bags used by Special Forces soldiers were different from the regular army’s balsak. Special Forces soldiers often took the scheduled flights to and from Ondangwa, and so Recces were a fairly regular sight.
Oom Boet and the Tac HQ team had departed by road to Ondangwa two weeks before the deployment. On our arrival we found the Tac HQ at Fort Rev in the usual predeployment frenzy. The most important task that remained for the team was to brief the Tac HQ, as well as the pilots and the “back-up” team on the emergency procedures and E&E plan. Before this could be done, the team had to work through the emergency procedures, escape routes and rendezvous (RV) points to ensure that each one understood and memorised every single detail and, more importantly, that each procedure and each action had the same meaning for all three of us. The E&E plan the Tac HQ would implement if anything went wrong was then meticulously drawn on a map overlay.
We had decided on a landing zone (LZ) 60 km south of the Lubango airfield. The team would deploy by rappelling from the helicopters onto the highest mountain ridges, where we would establish a cache and observe the area for two days. Fighter jets would act as an escort for the helicopters. Because of the distances involved and the dangers of flying into an area where the enemy had air superiority, the fighters were also assigned the job of telstar should there be a communication breakdown or any other emergency. The back-up team, made up of Special Forces soldiers from 51 Commando, would deploy to the last known location of the team should the E&E plan be activated.