Cyril and Prop were still in the cockpit when the Frantan ignited but, apart from suffering a severe fright and intense radiation heat, they were able to avoid the flame by exiting along the starboard wing. The Provost was burned beyond repair and stood forlornly over blackened concrete with blobs of molten aluminium outlining its position.
Bits and pieces of the Frantan fuse were handed over to us with the safety pin still in place. But an important component was missing. This was a soft metal dome that retained the 50mm steel ball that played a vital part in firing the fuse, irrespective of the attitude in which a Frantan impacted ground. The component was eventually located in grass a considerable distance from where it had been propelled by the igniter compound. The moment I had this in my hand I saw the deep indentation that clearly showed the Frantan had rolled slightly before striking tail down against the concrete. But this did not explain why the fuse had fired with a safety pin in position.
In my room that night I studied the offending pistol and fuse components comparing them with new ones. Though the details are lost to me now, I recall taking a long time to discover why the fuse had fired. In so doing I established that this could not have occurred had the Frantan not rolled to the precise angle it did. Next morning I demonstrated these findings to Ron and Varky and both were satisfied with what they saw. For the next four days we took evidence and statements from a string of witnesses and experts, including the Rhodesian manufacture of our Frantans.
Ron Dyer and I returned to Salisbury to interview our last witnesses who were Bob, Ian and Steve in hospital. It surprised us to find that all three were in the Lady Chancellor Nursing Home, the place where I was born. For some technical reason, plastic surgeon Mr Owen-Smith preferred to keep his patients in this maternity home.
As a WWII pilot, Mr Owen-Smith had been severely burned in an aircraft incident. His experiences in various hospitals made him determined to become involved with improving management of severely burned people and to undertake the cosmetic repair work that usually followed. I believe that, thanks to his wife’s hard work and financial support, he went through university in between many hospital confinements for progressive facial rebuild. He became world-renowned for his ability in his field and we all knew our Air Force fellows were in the best hands possible.
Ron Dyer and I were shaken when we first saw Bob Breakwell. His head was twice its normal size, completely ball-shaped and black. His eyes moved slightly behind burned slits and he could barely speak. His wife Joan was at his side where she remained all the time Bob was in intensive care. But for Joan and his cotton underwear, Bob would not have made it through the long and painful recovery process that followed.
Nextdoor were Ian and Steve, each with heavily bandaged hands, held high in slings. Their facial burns appeared like severe sunburn that made smiling painful but did not limit their ability to speak. Beside them were copious quantities of Castle beer, which they were required to drink through long pipes. They had orders to drink as much as they could manage.
Being told to drink beer for medical purposes was no problem to either of them but the consequence of doing so was the need to urinate frequently. Neither man could help himself and for some reason both had been refused drain lines, so they had no option but to call on the nursing staff to help them as the need arose. For this help they were prepared to wait, often in agony, for one or other of two coloured nurses to show up. They were too embarrassed to call on the white sisters who stood to attention, remained silent and stared into space whereas the coloured nurses talked and laughed all the time.
When we finally had all our facts assembled, I dictated the board’s findings and recommendations for Ron to record in his notoriously neat, easy-to-read, handwriting. Three thick files, the hand-written original plus two typed copies, containing supporting photographs and diagrams were submitted to Air HQ. About a month later I received a personal letter from Air Commodore John Deall saying the Commander had directed him to convey HQs appreciation to the Chairman and members of the B of I for an investigation thoroughly well done. So far as I know this had not occurred before, nor had such an inquiry been passed to the Prime Minister and cabinet to demonstrate how the Air Force conducted its inquiries.
Alcora
GOOD POLITICAL AND INTER-SERVICE relationships between South Africa, Mozambique and Rhodesia were being strengthened. The intention was to assess resources and develop plans for mutual support in the face of the mounting communist threat to southern Africa. Angola was obviously Russia’s key objective but exploitation of FRELIMO, SAANC, ZAPU, ZANU and other lesser African nationalist parties operating out of safe bases in Zambia and Tanzania were being encouraged through ever-increasing Russian and Chinese assistance by way of arms, advisors and instructors.
Joint military planning between the three countries commenced under the general codename ‘Alcora’. Several committees were established for airfields, mapping, radio communications, vehicle mine-proofing and so on. I was a member of the Alcora Mapping Committee. It was during the setting-up phase of Alcora that we received a large contingent of Portuguese political figures accompanied by senior Army and Air Force officers in what was called Exercise Cauliflower. Included in their itinerary was a large-scale demonstration in the farming area near Salisbury to show our operational techniques.
A wide valley allowed good viewing of a ‘terrorist group’ moving into the area and basing up on a small bush-covered hill in the centre of the valley. This was followed by cross-graining troops that detected ‘the incursion’ before a hunter-tracker group followed-up leading to a vertical envelopment by heli-borne troops.
Under the shade of msasa trees on a brilliant clear day, the colourfully dressed spectators sat in comfortable chairs on high ground overlooking the demonstration area. Behind the visitors, Army caterers were putting finishing touches to a lavish luncheon in a huge marquee complete with a bar that served every conceivable drink. Brightly coloured mobile toilets were dotted around giving a carnival appearance in this park-like setting. The whole spectacle appeared more like a royal garden party than one intended to deal with the serious business of bush-warfare tactics. There was a great deal of noise and smoke in the final stages of the demonstration and the smell of burnt cordite coming to the spectators on a light breeze generated a strong sense of realism.
At the end of their three-day visit, our Portuguese guests said they had enjoyed a wonderful time and had learned a great deal from us. For this they were thankful and invited the Air Force and Army to send delegates to visit their operational area in the northeast of Mozambique. The offer was eagerly accepted.
It was at this time that Mr Clifford Dupont, until now the Officer Administering the Government, became the Rhodesian President. In 1969 the Rhodesian electorate had gone to the polls in a referendum to accept or reject a new constitution and to establish if Rhodesia should adopt republican status. The Republic of Rhodesia and the Presidential Office came into effect of 2 March 1970. This effectively severed our ties with Britain, or so we hoped.