There is a basic rule for aircrew concerning the consumption of alcohol. This is, ‘eight hours between bottle and throttle’. It is easy enough to comply with if one or two drinks are taken before retiring to bed early. In the bush we would not consume any alcoholic beverage until we were certain there would be no need to fly that night. However, after the abortive sweep of the mountain all was quiet so the aircrew tucked into a couple of ice-cold beers before dinner and an early night.
We had consumed three beers apiece and were about to have our meal when Ian Harvey and I were instructed to grab our kit and get up to the police station at Zwimba. With three beers in an empty stomach, having not eaten since early morning, I was very concerned about flying on such a dark night. The act of lifting off into the black had the apparent effect of sobering me up completely and we arrived at Zwimba safely.
At Zwimba every policeman available had set off to investigate a report of a lone terrorist who had arrived at a farmer’s house. We waited all night to be called forward but no call came. I remember how Ian Harvey curled up under the Charge Office counter and slept like a baby whilst my technician Jerry Hayter and I paced up and down until vehicles arrived at dawn with a wounded terrorist. His name was Abel Denga.
Abel had been shot through the stomach by an African police sergeant when he emerged from a hut next to the farmer’s house and attempted to shoot the sergeant. Abel had been with the Nevada Gang during the unsuccessful sweep on the mountain the previous day. He said he knew where Gumbotshuma and the rest of his gang could be found some distance from the mountain. In response to questioning, he said he would be able to direct an airborne force to their present location.
Following first-aid treatment to his wound, I got airborne with Abel and five armed policemen. Ian followed with another six armed policemen. But it soon became clear that Abel had no idea where he was because we were being given haphazard changes in direction. The police believed he was deliberately misleading us, so we returned to Zwimba for the exercise to be conducted by road. This also turned into a wild goose chase because Abel was totally disorientated. He looked really washed out when the ground party returned, so we wrapped him up in blankets and placed him on a stretcher to fly him to Harare Hospital.
Jerry Hayter watched Abel throughout the flight and became concerned about his fast and weakening pulse. An ambulance was waiting at the hospital helicopter pad where two black female nurses took the stretcher from us and were about to put it in the ambulance. I requested that they return the stretcher to the helicopter as soon as possible. “Certainly”, said the older of the two nurses, whereupon they rotated the helicopter stretcher to drop Abel face down onto their own ambulance stretcher. Jerry and I were incensed by this callous act but the older nurse simply said, “Bloody terrorist bastard”, climbed into the ambulance and sped away towards the hospital. Having seen relatively kind treatment from the Police and SB, including the sergeant Abel had attempted to shoot, the attitude of these professional nurses seemed way out of place. Two days later we heard that Abel Denga had died.
From the hospital we flew the short distance back to New Sarum because I had been recalled to start my QHI (Qualified Helicopter Instructor) course. Back in the op area four terrorists were killed. Edmond Nyandoro who had received his training at Nanking Military College in China was captured and sentenced to death for his direct involvement in the Viljoens’ murders. Gumbotshuma escaped back to Zambia following a long trek up the Hunyani River and the Tete Province of Mozambique. The third group of seven made a serious mistake in going to Salisbury. They were all apprehended when Police ground coverage teams detected their presence the moment they arrived in Harare Township.
Of the group of twenty-one men who entered Rhodesia, only Gumbotshuma escaped. Nevertheless, publicity arising from their activities suited ZANU perfectly. The loss of twenty men was of no concern to the politicos of ZANU whose only interest was to prove to the Liberation Committee of the OAU that the party was active inside Rhodesia.
Aiden Diggeden
MOST RHODESIANS KNEW OF A colourful young prisoner named Aiden Diggeden. He was a gentle rogue who claimed that no prison would ever hold him for long and, as I recall, he proved this three times. On one of these, Aiden escaped with two other white prisoners. I became involved in covering ground from Lake McIlwaine to the small settlement of Selous on the main road to Bulawayo. After a fruitless search of almost three hours I needed to refuel but no police station was prepared for helicopter operations in those times. Fortunately our Alouettes’ engines could use Avtur, the correct jet paraffin, or diesel fuel, so I landed on the main road next to the Selous service station. Vehicles backed up either side of the helicopter until my technician and I pushed it to a diesel pump. This created consternation for the station attendant and drew crowds of people to watch proceedings until the diesel storage tank ran dry before the helicopter’s tank was half full. Then new information came through to let us know the search had switched to another area; so we returned to base. Aiden was apprehended three days later.
On another occasion he triggered a countrywide manhunt that had been on the go for three days before Aiden was accidentally discovered hiding in a water reservoir set high above the main prison buildings. He had been waiting in there for everything to quieten down before making the escape he had planned.
Aiden was a man who could charm anyone including his jailers and he used this gift to good advantage. He was also a gifted athlete. For some weeks, when out in the exercise yard, he would sprint to the high prison wall and run almost to its summit before executing a backward somersault to land neatly on his feet. He told his prison warders he was practising for the day he would reach the top of the wall, roll over it, and land next to the vehicle that would race him away to freedom. Believing the wall was too high, this latest leg-pull amused the warders who were used to being ribbed by Aiden. When the time was right however, Aiden did just as he said he would and managed to reach South Africa.
Helicopter projects continued
IN BETWEEN QHI FLIGHTS, THERE was time to continue with my two projects. With the aid of the Drawing Office and Station Workshops I produced a prototype mounting for side-firing machine-guns that incorporated an arrangement to arrest expended cartridge cases and links. Squadron Leader Rogers and I conducted firing tests that proved the mounting but highlighted the need for a suitable gun-sight. I managed to lay hands on a small French reflector sight that improved accuracy dramatically.
With minor modifications, the mounting was used for the next fourteen years though .303 Browning machine-guns, because of their higher rate of fire, later replaced the MAG machine-guns. Because .303 Browning had a bad reputation for jamming, they were fitted in pairs.
Every pilot and technician on 7 Squadron was required to attain high proficiency on these side-firing guns. It took some doing, but Air HQ eventually agreed to the award of Air Gunners Wings to all technicians who met the laid-down standard of proficiency.