During the following week a second letter addressed ‘TO GOD IN HEAVEN’ arrived at the mission. In this the old man thanked God for the gift of £5 but suggested that, in future, God should not make any payment through the Catholic mission because they keep half of His gifts.
A terrorist was captured unhurt but in an emaciated state. He was armed with an SKS rifle and had plenty of ammunition. His belly had been empty for days and the urine in his water bottle had turned to acid because he had failed to find water. Once he had been fed and his thirst had been quenched he was interrogated by Special Branch. He told SB that he was the sole survivor of a contact with the Army and had been trying to get back to Zambia. The matter of hunger and thirst came up and he was asked if he had seen any game. He said he had seen plenty of animals. When asked why he had not shot something to eat, he said, “I do not have a Government hunting licence!”
An old headman near Chipinga came with his people to inspect my helicopter—the first they had seen close up. The headman was delighted to be taken on a short goodwill flight around his own territory accompanied by his ten-year-old grandson. Having experienced flight for the first time in his life, the old man declared that he was now the possessor of untold knowledge. He understood cars, buses and tractors, all of which he had driven. He understood most mechanical things, having worked with ploughs, farm implements and dairy milking machines. He said he even understood jet airliners because he had seen them flying high in the sky. But there was one thing that really puzzled his mind. He could not understand how white men put whole sardines into a totally enclosed tin. When I told him how this was done and pointed out the solder lines around the crimped lid he was tickled pink but asked me to promise that I would keep this amazing secret to myself.
When we were operating in the Kanyemba area, I came upon some of the people of the two-toed tribe known as the Vadoma. Not all members of the tribe suffered the affliction, but all seemed to be resistant to the killer disease ‘sleeping sickness’ caused by tsetse flies that plagued that area of the Zambezi Valley. Every time I was bitten by one of these creatures I not only jumped at the sting but also came up in a red and painful swelling around the bite. When I asked a Vadoma chief how he put up with the tsetse fly menace, he said he suffered no problem. He always made certain that a person who was more attractive to the flies than himself stayed close to him, day and night.
My father was overseeing the monthly dipping of tribal cattle when a delegation of old men approached him driving three oxen before them. These animals had been castrated many moons back but the men had come to Dad to say they had made a big mistake; these beasts should never have been castrated. Would ‘Mambo’ please turn them back into bulls!
Amongst European traders there was always good-natured rivalry evidenced by notices and nonsensical poems affixed to shop windows. I cannot recall any that I saw but Maria Pickett, who lived in Gatooma, told me of one incident that typified the rivalry between people trading in similar lines. This involved two chemists whose premises were opposite one another on the main street in the middle of town. One altered his display window to promote a whole range of quality hand-soaps. Included was a poem that read, “I am young and full of hope—I wash my pussy with Coal-tar soap!” Seeing this, his rival responded by filling his window with all sorts of low-cost soaps and displayed them with the following message: “I am old and have no hope—I wash my cock with any old soap!”
FAC courses and smoke trails
AT THORNHILL THE HUNTER AND Vampire squadrons were running Forward Air Controller (FAC) courses for Army officers undergoing company and platoon commander training at the School of Infantry, Gwelo.
The FAC courses were primarily intended for situations of conventional warfare where the Army might need air strikes to be undertaken against a variety of targets, including tanks, other armoured vehicles and artillery. These courses were the foundation upon which the Army and the Air Force developed very special bonds between units and individuals. Most of the participating Army officers were majors, captains and lieutenants who became senior commanders in future operations.
Arising from the FAC courses, I thought that situations could arise in which helicopter pilots might also have to undertake airborne FAC tasks by directing jet pilots onto pinpoint targets. It occurred to me that if two helicopters could trail smoke from different directions towards a target, jet pilots would be able to visually extend the lines and strike the intersection point. With official approval to investigate this possibility I had special nozzles made to inject atomised oil into the combustion chamber of the jet engine. For weeks I worked on this with the willing assistance of the squadron’s technicians, often covering the entire airbase in a cloud of white smoke.
When the nozzle design and method of pumping the fluid into the engine seemed right, airborne tests were conducted with a Canberra. The Canberra’s crew could easily see the smoke trail from over twenty nautical miles but it soon became apparent that a helicopter’s flight line and the smoke trail differed considerably, even in the gentlest of wind conditions. Since this was bound to lead jets into striking wrong positions the project was discarded.
Missing rhino
AIR HQ RECEIVED AN UNUSUAL request for help from a farmer living a few miles west of Salisbury. He ran game on his place. Included was a white rhino that had gone missing. I was tasked to find the animal and, if possible, drive it back to the farm. A pass up one of the boundaries revealed a break in the fence through which the rhino had escaped. Fairly high grass on the adjacent farm clearly revealed the line the rhino had taken and led me to the big fellow who was having a snooze under trees some five miles from the gap in the fence. The animal responded well to helicopter shepherding and trotted back to where the farmer and his workers had positioned to guide the animal through the broken section of fence.
However, when the rhino spotted the people ahead of him he became confused and gave me a run-around as I moved about trying to steer him in the right direction. The people on the ground waved hats and other objects to help but two of them only succeeded in getting knocked over by the rhino before I eventually came very close and forced him through.
The fun of helicopters
IT WAS UNUSUAL EVENTS SUCH as this that made helicopters so much more fun to fly than any fixed-wing machine.
Because of the helicopter’s versatility, every opportunity was taken to reduce stresses and make a student’s training a special experience. Intensive training was broken down into short periods with rest breaks taken in a variety of locations. This allowed students to meet a whole range of people, which was not possible when operating conventional aircraft.
Many of our training flights included tea and luncheon stops with farmers who were always delighted to have us drop in on their front lawns. Seldom was this done without forewarning and, in consequence, there were usually additional guests invited to join the helicopter crew for a swim and sumptuous meal.