Griff met up with the Pfungwe Fireforce that carried Major Hammond, the airborne ground-force commander. Having deployed the troops, Griff put down with his force at a small Police base known as Alpha Base and awaited developments. When the Pfungwe K-Car ran out of fuel, Griff filled in for him until he himself needed to refuel, and passed Major Hammond back to the other K-Car.
In this way the ground forces enjoyed almost unbroken attention from their airborne commander. The results of this contact were disappointing. One killed, two captured wounded and five known to have escaped, wounded. But this was the last time ZANLA CTs were seen or contacted in 1975. Thereafter minor contacts occurred with LTTs only.
Loss of top army officers
ARMY CHIEF OF STAFF MAJOR-General John Shaw and Officer Commanding RLI Colonel Dave Parker with Army Captains David Lamb and Ian Robertson visited a number of military bases that had recently been established in the eastern districts in preparation for the imminent return of ZANLA. On completion of inspections in Umtali their next port of call was Melsetter.
On 23 December, Op Polo pilot Air Lieutenant Johannes van Rensburg flying a Z-Car lifted off from Umtali for a straightforward flight to Melsetter. His technician was Sergeant Pieter van Rensburg. In keeping with practice, even in quiet times, the helicopter flew at low level as a precaution against Strela and smallarms fire. The route over the high ground of the Vumba mountains was followed by a steep descent into the low ground of the Burma Valley. The helicopter was following a descending river-line with high ridges left and right, when it flew into a rusty old hawser cable that ran across the flight path. The helicopter broke up and crashed, killing everyone but the pilot whose injuries resulted in the amputation of one leg.
The long-forgotten cable was anchored on the high right-hand ridge and descended to a disused track on the opposite side of the river. Its purpose had been to pass logs from the high inaccessible forest down to a track used by tractor-drawn trailers. The cable was not displayed on any map and no 7 Squadron pilot had ever seen or reported its presence. The young SAAF pilot could not be blamed in any way for this accident as he would not have seen the rusted cable that blended perfectly with the background until it was too late to take avoiding action.
News of this horrific accident shook the entire country because it robbed Rhodesia of its next Army Commander and its finest field commander. I am one of many who believe that, had John Shaw and Dave Parker lived, the Rhodesian war would have followed a better course.
Lull before the storm
FOLLOWING FAILURE OF THE ZAMBIAN-SOUTH African détente-induced ceasefire there could be no doubt that ZANLA would be returning in greater strength. The general feeling was that they were still in disarray but détente had given them the golden opportunity to prepare for a big push. This would commence when the rainy season provided plenty of surface water for the long trek through Mozambique with maximum bush cover inside Rhodesia. It was the best time to strike externally but, because of Vorster’s détente and his threat of cutting supplies from South Africa, this had been ruled out.
With Mozambique under complete FRELIMO control, it was obvious that Rhodesia’s entire eastern flank would be exposed for ZANLA, though we believed that in the initial stages this would be limited to the border section north of the eastern border mountain ranges. This is why most troops were deployed along the border north of the Inyanga mountain range where daily cross-graining patrols watched for ZANLA’s return to areas already known to them.
The squadrons used the break in operations to catch up on training new pilots and brush up flying standards. The PJIs of Air Force Parachute Training School began training RLI paratroopers after which they would commence training RAR.
In spite of their heavy schedules, the PJIs managed to give interested pilots a short course for a parachute descent into water. Until now, Air HQ had followed the RAF lead in not allowing pilots to participate in any parachuting activities. The thought was that a pilot who enjoyed parachuting might abandon his aircraft at the first sign of trouble, rather than attempt to bring it home. In Rhodesia it was obvious that pilots were so dedicated to the safety of their machines that it was perfectly safe to let them enjoy one parachute descent. Many pilots, including me, leapt at the opportunity.
To limit the risk of unnecessary injuries, our drop was into Lake McIlwaine, west of Salisbury. Following a compressed training course and dressed in flying overalls and tennis shoes, twenty of us piled into a Dakota for a nice long 3,000-foot descent.
I expected that we would all experience fear before the drop but this only seemed to affect Wing Commander Sandy Mutch who sat scowling at the floor until it was time for him to ‘stand in the door’ as first to exit. I was next in line.
All of our preparatory instruction made the leap into space fantastic but I was mildly surprised when pitched into a horizontal posture as the parachute deployed with noticeable creaking of the harness at shoulder level; then everything became dead-quiet. As instructed, I looked up to check the canopy and noticed that it appeared much smaller that I had expected. All was well, so it was just a matter of pulling the seat strap under my buttocks to get into a sitting position and then, with left hand holding the right-hand lift web above my head, I undid the harness buckle and pulled the securing straps away from my front. Having done this, the right hand crossed over to hold the left lift strap above my head, and I was set to enjoy the ride down, with Sandy Mutch ahead and below me.
Lake McIlwaine’s water was pea-green with algae due to abnormally high levels of nutrients that had come downriver from Salisbury. On the green surface were two powerboats waiting to collect us. From one of these there came the clear voice of Flight Lieutenant Boet Swart, OC Parachute Training School, who was bellowing at Sandy Mutch to undo his harness. Sandy stubbornly refused to comply.
One seemed to be suspended in a static position for ages until, suddenly, perspectives changed rapidly as the water rushed up. Seeing this, it was just a matter of straightening one’s legs to slip off the seat strap and remain hanging on the lift webs. As my feet touched water I let go of the lift webs. The water was surprisingly warm with zero visibility as I swam under the canopy and came to the surface to find outstretched hands reaching from the recovery boat. Once on board I saw that my parachute had already been recovered.
As the other recovery boat passed us to collect following parachutists, Boet Swart’s angry words carried across the water. He was blasting Sandy Mutch for not having observed safety regulation by remaining in the harness that was still firmly strapped to him when he was pulled into the boat. I found this an amusing end to a superb experience.
