My perspective of this airstrike was quite different considering I watched each aircraft as it attacked. Rob Gaunt’s rockets were exploding on target before my marker rockets were down. As usual I tensed up until I saw the Hunter pass under me. Once the fourth Hunter passed through target I looked up to watch Don Donaldson’s bombs appear out of the bomb bay at the very moment I expected to see them. The bombs ran the full 950-metre length of the target before I saw a number of men running in many directions within the base. I looked up for the second Canberra, hoping its bombs would reach target quickly.
Keith Goddard was too far behind and still turning onto his attack line. With my own motion this gave the impression that the Canberra was skidding sideways against the beautiful backdrop of bluish purple hills. When on line, the Canberra made a couple of sharp corrections in response to the bomb-aimer’s instructions. At the very moment I expected to see the bombs falling, there they were but, as they reached about one-fuselage depth below the aircraft, the graceful Canberra disappeared in an orange fireball of enormous dimension. I knew immediately that a bomb had detonated prematurely setting off the full bomb load. Moments later the loud bang and pressure wave came to me through the open window of my Trojan.
Rob Gaunt asked, “What the hell was that?” I told him Green 2 had exploded. Rob then asked if it had been Strela to which I answered, “I saw no trail. I think it was a premature detonation setting off the whole bloody frag load.”
In a fraction of a second the fireball had increased in size and changed to a mixture of deep-red flame billowing out of dense black smoke with a tongue of orange flame spewing out of its centre and curving downwards. This was the flaming forward section of the fuselage that tumbled slowly leaving a trail of white smoke and unburnt fuel along its long path to ground. Both engines passed the fuselage throwing up showers of soil and red dust as they impacted. By then the fireball had given way to dense black tumbling smoke from which sections of wings, tail and other wreckage left many trails of light grey and white smoke as they descended at varying velocities. Like falling leaves the wings and large bits of wreckage wafted down slowly.
By the time the last piece of wreckage reached ground the smoke ball had become brownish grey which reduced in density as the wind took it westwards past numerous columns of smoke rising from the sparsely-treed ground, some 500 metres to the north of the target.
Rob Gaunt had not missed a beat and ran the four Hunters through the target a second time as if nothing had happened. I was only vaguely aware of these strikes low on my left side because my attention was fixed on the awful drama I have described. When the Hunters cleared I switched over to the SAS radio frequency and moved over to the crash site where I noticed Don Donaldson’s Canberra orbiting above me.
The SAS on the ground at Macombe, just fifteen kilometres away, had heard the explosion clearly. Four helicopters were heading for the target, at last to check out air strike effectiveness. However they witnessed the disaster and headed directly for the Canberra’s nose section. In moments confirmation was given that both crewmen were dead and that their bodies were intact. Having heard this, I returned to the airstrike frequency and gave Don Donaldson the bad news.
Flight Lieutenant Al Bruce in the meanwhile was airborne out of Macombe and met me over the crash site preparatory to an attack on the small base I had located just before the jet strike. We made our strikes and were well clear of target when the SAS troops at the Canberra crash site reported hearing a large explosion from the position we had just struck.
I landed at Macombe to collect the bodies of the Canberra crew and flew them back to New Sarum. On arrival there, well after dark, I was feeling very depressed by events and for having to carry the bodies of two fine young men, whose deaths I had witnessed.
In spite of the fact that I was extremely tired and had not had anything to eat or drink all day, members of the Board of Inquiry into the Canberra incident insisted on taking my evidence right away. This was because they planned to fly to the crash site first thing next morning. By the time my statement had been recorded and answers given to many questions, I was too clapped-out to fly back to Centenary and stayed over at New Sarum.
Operation Marble
NEXT MORNING I WAS ABOUT to return to the operational area when called to the secrephone (telephone that scrambles and unscrambles voice conversation). Group Captain Dicky Bradshaw instructed me to return to Thornhill, as I was required to proceed on a top-secret mission next day, 6 April. His signal to Thornhill would fill me in on the details.
In his Flying Wing HQ office at Thornhill Wing Commander Tol Janeke handed me two signals to read whilst he and Rob Gaunt chatted. The first was an Operational Order for Operation Marble. It required a small team of recce pilots to position at the Portuguese Brigade HQ at Estima Air Base close to the hydroelectric construction site of Cabora Bassa.
The task was to locate FRELIMO targets for a Portuguese assault force. Rob Gaunt was to be the Ops Commander of a temporary FAF at Estima Air Base with all necessary equipment and communications. I was to lead a team of four recce pilots to provide targets for offensive operations by Portuguese heli-borne troops and helicopter gunships.
The second signal advised that presidential confirmation had been received for me to receive an award that made me a Member of the Legion of Merit (Operational). The congratulations I received from Tol and others went straight over my head because I was already too preoccupied with my fear of the forthcoming recce flights. These would be over areas in which I knew FRELIMO forces possessed many Strela missiles.
Tol told me to take the day off to be with Beryl and the children who I had not seen for some time. Rob Tasker and Chris Weinmann were both at base and they agreed that there was nothing requiring my immediate attention; so I briefed them to prepare three Trojans for Kevin Peinke, Mark Knight and me to fly to Estima. Kevin and Mark were the only pilots available who had shown any interest in recce, and Mozambican ground was fairly easy to read anyway. Chris Weinmann, using the fourth Trojan, was to operate out of Centenary to cover territory in the southwestern sector of the area I planned to cover.
Chris had a fair idea of the ground he would be covering but I gave him warning to be especially careful of a particular mountainous place from which heavy fire had been directed at me every time I had been there. In particular I made it clear that I would cover those areas in which Strela was known to exist and asked him not to operate above a particular line of latitude, which I marked on his maps.
At home I told Beryl I was only there for one night to change over an aircraft. She was disappointed but asked me several times what was troubling me. I assured her all was well and that I should be home within ten days; but she seemed to know otherwise. It puzzled me that she could see through my attempt to appear happy and relaxed.
On the way to Estima I popped into FAF 3 to brief Peter Cooke on the Portuguese need for recce assistance and what was required of 4 Squadron. Chris would be operating from FAF 3 so we made plans for copy of his signalled recce results to HQ to be relayed to me at Estima. We also decided on the VHF ‘natter’ frequency Chris and I would use for direct communication between each other whilst airborne, because we would be beyond the range of all other stations.