Hoffy and Ian picked up the seriously wounded before I put down where a soldier signalled me to land. Two terrorist bodies were loaded on the cabin floor behind me. As I looked over my shoulder I noticed the bowels of one spilling out onto the cabin floor just as the stench of death reached me. Being squeamish, I started to retch. Bob Whyte saw this and came around the front of the helicopter, lighting a cigarette for me. As I drew on the fag it had the effect of multiplying the stench so I really had to force myself to regain control. Deliberately I took in very deep breaths of the foul-smelling air.
Whilst this was happening, a third body had been placed on top of the two dead terrorists. Only then did I realise it was an RAR soldier. The body of a white policeman, who I realised must be one of the dog handlers, was about to be loaded when I signalled the troops to wait for the next helicopter. I asked John Rogers who was waiting to come in behind me to uplift the policeman’s body. As I got airborne I spotted a dead black dog lying about 100 metres from the troops. I passed John Rogers its location and requested him to uplift the dog too. Though he did this, John said later that the stench of the dead dog had been horrific. This Alsatian was Brutus whose handler survived the attack.
On the flight to Tjolotjo I could not take my mind off the dogs. There were specific issues that occupied my thoughts.
Firstly, the dogs had been pulling against their leashes for about two hours before losing scent or becoming too tired to work. Secondly, had the dogs been free to track untethered at their natural speed, they would have caught up with those terrorists in less than an hour. Thirdly, the dogs were totally pooped by the time the callsign stopped to rest so, with human scent all around them, they had no chance of detecting the terrorist group. And finally, I had found it very easy to see the dogs from the air.
From these simple facts, the idea came to me that by using a helicopter to follow one or more dogs along a trail, it would be possible to overhaul terrorists quickly. The question I asked myself was, “Could dogs learn to be controlled by radio from the air?” This had to be explored so I decided there and then to follow this up when I returned to base.
As I landed at Tjolotjo I took a really deep breath and held it as long as it took to bring the rotor blades to rest then leapt out into the fresh air. The RAR troops laid out the three bodies then complained bitterly about the body of Corporal Cosmos having been carried on top of dead terrorists. They found this to be extremely offensive. I apologised explaining how I had been retching instead of watching the loading of my helicopter. A huge N’debele sergeant told me I had nothing to apologise for. He and his men felt that “the troops who loaded the bodies should have known better than to lay Corporal Cosmos on top of terrorist scum.”
From here on follow-up operations, which now included RLI troops, had the effect of fragmenting the terrorists, following a series of contacts in which one more RSF member was killed. Operation Nickel eventually wound up when it was clear that at least twenty terrorists had made good their escape into Botswana. Many years later, after Nelson Mandela’s SAANC came to power in South Africa, someone on TV mentioned that Chris Hani, then leader of the SA Communist Party, had been one of those who escaped from Operation Nickel. Joe Modise, Nelson Mandela’s first Minister of Defence, was another.
Thirty-three SAANC and ZAPU men were known to have been killed, thirty-four were captured and twenty-seven were unaccounted for which, although a military success, had cost Rhodesia dearly in that eight of our security forces had been killed and thirteen wounded. One RSF man lost for just over eight terrorists killed or captured was considered far too high a price to pay. This was certainly a wake-up-call for the military.
There was a great deal of media coverage about the death of Spencer Thomas, the dog handler I had asked John Rogers to uplift. Spencer was a third-generation Rhodesian and his Alsatian Satan was missing, but not presumed dead. For two months Satan was lost until found by locals who lived many miles from where he had run from attacking terrorists. The scruffy and emaciated dog was returned to the Police Dog School where he quickly regained weight and his shiny coat.
Radio tracker dog project disallowed
BACK AT NEW SARUM I discussed the idea of using a radiocontrolled tracker dog with the man in charge of the Air Force Dog Section. Warrant Officer Peter Allen was certain the concept would work. I then went to Wally Jefferies in the Radio Section and asked if he thought it possible to make a two-part, lightweight radio arrangement for fitment into a harness for a dog. One radio was to be a receiver with earphone on one frequency. The other was to be an open transmitter with microphone on a separate frequency. Wally had a storm of questions that I was able to answer before he told me, very cautiously, that he thought it possible.
Squadron Leader Rogers had already given me his approval in principle so it was just a matter of getting Air HQ’s authority to explore the possibilities. The two most senior members of Air Staff immediately saw the advantage of speed tracking with helicopters and dogs. Both were especially interested in the possibility of wresting advantage from terrorists who might be lying in ambush. Except for the accidental death of Ken Pierson, most of our losses during Operation Nickel had come from ambush situations, hence the Air Staff interest. They realised that, if the tracker dog system worked, it would become essential to have additional airborne helicopters with troops for vertical envelopment of terrorists located by dogs.
With no objection from Air Staff, I put the same case to the Technical Staff. Here I found the same cynicism as when I had sought permission to develop pressure refuellers. The self-same officer who had spiked that request with his story about refuelling Spitfires from four-gallon Jerry cans spiked this project also. He asked, “PB, if we train elephants to fire machine-guns, will that interest you?” I said it certainly would but that this was not what I had come to discuss.
Any project requiring expenditure of money had to be wholly approved by both Air and Technical branches so the radio tracker dog plan, contested by only one officer, seemed to be doomed, at least for the time being.
Find Sherriff
ON 15 SEPTEMBER 1967, I flew to Sipolilo Police Station where Flight Lieutenant John Swart awaited me. He had been on a four-day exploration walk with Chief Superintendent Ted Sheriff in the northern section of the Umvukwes mountain range. They had become separated and big John’s search for the older and equally big Ted had been fruitless, so he walked out to seek help. His main concern was that Ted may have fallen and incapacitated himself in rough country that was full of ridges and deep ravines.
The mineral-rich Umvukwes range, known as ‘The Dyke’, runs for over 150 kilometres in a near-continuous mix of folded mountains and sharp ridge lines running from the southern Mcheka-wa-ka-Sungabeta mountain range to the high ground of the Zambezi escarpment between the Musengezi and Hunyani river exits into the Zambezi Valley. Within a northern section of this range known as the Horseshoe mountains there existed a unique species of palm trees known only to this areatogether with rare orchids and a great variety of birds. John and Ted’s interest in these wonders of nature had been the reason for their exploration trip.