Return of ZANLA
IN EARLY JANUARY 1976, THE northern penetrations commenced. Plans for simultaneous crossings on the other two fronts were stymied for a short while by logistical shortcomings and because FRELIMO was experiencing difficulties with dissident elements within its own forces close to the Rhodesian border. These dissidents may well have been those responsible for firing at every Rhodesian vehicle or aircraft moving near the border over previous months.
ZANLA’s first entry occurred just north of the Mudzi River and was detected by a routine border patrol just after dawn. I was at Mtoko with my four South African recce students when news of the resumption of war reached us at the breakfast table.
The elevation of the sun is vitally important for visual recce work. Because of this, most recce flights were conducted between 10 o’clock and 3 o’clock. However, aerial tracking could be done for at least two hours either side of these times. Since I was committed to a recce task inside Mozambique, not too far from the entry point, I tasked Francois du Toit to precede me and try his hand at aerial-tracking the CTs who were reported to have split into three groups of about fifteen men each.
When I got airborne, Francois had already been flying ahead of trackers for about an hour. I listened in on the operations frequency but only heard general natter between the ground callsigns and supporting helicopters. I had been working inside Mozambique for some time when I heard Francois ‘sunmistakable Afrikaans-accented voice calling for troops to be lifted forward to a patch of thick bush where he had lost one trail he had followed for some distance from the border. He did not sound too confident but his request was met without question. The action that followed accounted for some CTs killed and the capture of large quantities of equipment abandoned as survivors scattered. With his ability in aerial tracking now proven, Francois went after the trails of the other two groups and brought troops into contact with both of them.
Sitting at height over rough terrain in Mozambique, I was following the action in Rhodesia with interest and a sense of pride in the young South African I had trained. I had become so engrossed in what I was listening to that I did not immediately understand the meaning of dense white smoke that suddenly blossomed on the ground 5,000 feet below me.
The smoke densified slightly and appeared to be drifting quite rapidly when I noticed a shadow line racing down-sun from the smoke. I clicked to the fact that this was the trail of a missile coming my way. It would not have helped one bit but I instinctively closed the throttle and switched off both magnetos and watched the smoke line streaking upwards. I did not see the Strela missile itself but watched its swirling white plume pass about 200 metres behind the aircraft. Thanks to the anti-Strela modifications to the Cessna, the missile had failed to ‘see’ the aircraft. The operator must have tracked the aircraft until he received a false ‘lock-on signal’ from the sun. Nevertheless I was happy to signal Air HQ with the good news that we had outright proof of the effectiveness of our anti-Strela modifications.
Shortly thereafter the four South African pilots returned to their home bases. However, Jan Mienie and Francois du Toit had enjoyed their time with the Rhodesian Air Force so much that both of them resigned from the SAAF and joined us later in the year.
Lynx ferry
IT WAS AT THIS TIME that final preparations were being made to take delivery of the new twin-engined (push-pull) Cessna 337 aircraft from Reims in France.
If the story about a Trojan T28D shipment being turned around within sight of Cape Town is correct, it is hardly surprising that the option to sea-freight the Cessnas had been discarded. But it is more likely that an existing problem influenced Air HQ to opt to fly the machines directly from France to Rhodesia. A batch of SAIA-Marchetti SF 260C training aircraft, which were to replace the Provost as a basic trainer, had been shipped from Europe months earlier but all trace of them had been lost. Although the first batch of seventeen (to become known as Genets) eventually pitched up, there was great concern for their safety when the Cessna 337 aircraft were ready for collection.
To ferry the Cessnas such a long distance was a dangerous undertaking at a time when a Rhodesian might be arrested on sight in many countries, and more so in the black African countries through which the aircraft would have to transit. To reduce the risks, considerable trouble was taken to disguise the ownership and destination of the aircraft. French-speaking Malagasy was chosen as the ultimate destination for two separate flights; the first down the western side of Africa and the second down the east.
The Government of Malagasy knew nothing of this plan nor did they know about the fictitious Malagasy Fisheries Surveillance Company whose fancy crest was emblazoned on variously coloured and brightly painted Cessnas. The false company’s name was Sociedad Estudios y Pescas Maritimas, registered in Spain. All documentation, flight planning and correspondence was in French and, where appropriate, gave the impression that the original paperwork had been sent ahead to the Malagasy-based company. Considering Rhodesia’s considerable successes in sanctions-busting, it would not surprise me to learn that there were agents of the bogus company actually sitting in Tananarive to handle mail and queries.
Two ferry flights following widely separated routes was considered essential, as more than ten aircraft flying one route could draw attention; eighteen aircraft would certainly look too much like squadron strength to any knowledgeable observer. Separate timings of the two flights was another issue. To minimise risk, it was necessary to keep the number of stops along each route to the barest minimum. This necessitated the use of specially designed long-range fuel tanks that occupied the entire volume of cabin space behind the pilots’ seats. Direct injection into the engines of oil for the long flights was also necessary. However, the fuel tanks were so expensive that only ten were made to cater for both ferry flights. After the first ferry, tanks were to be flown to France as quickly as possible by a Rhodesian-owned sanctions-busting airline to get the second ferry completed before hostile intelligence services picked up on what was happening.
Considerable care was taken in the selection of nine Rhodesian Air Force pilots. Seven would be used on the first ferry, but only two on the second ferry. This was to avoid having recent entries in their false passports evidencing passage down the west coast of Africa, which might raise unwanted questions along the east coast route.
The plan was for each participating Rhodesian pilot to be accompanied by a French pilot. The Frenchmen had to do all the talking at the various refuelling stops as ‘proof that the ferry was a purely French affair’. The explanation for the presence of English-speaking pilots with southern African accents was to be that they were commercial pilots who had been hired to ensure safe passage through tropical weather conditions with which the French pilots were unfamiliar. I was one of the pilots selected to go to France for a quick conversion onto the Cessna 337 before the first ferry commenced. But then at short notice I was withdrawn because a SAAF delegation that was about to visit us specifically requested my presence in Salisbury. In consequence I did not attend the pilots’ briefing by the Commander and DG Ops who made it clear that, if things went wrong, the Rhodesian Government could not guarantee the safety of individuals.