The Third World War: August 1985

of the United Arab Emirates. He had been loaned by its Commander to take charge of a mixed air regiment equipped with French Lynx and Gazelle helicopters, which had itself been allotted to support the Kuwaiti forces helping to keep Dhahran free from Saudi interference. For a week they had had little to do except patrol, and he was beginning to agree that three-quarters of a soldier’s life is spent hanging about doing nothing. He didn’t mind hanging about, but he’d much rather do it from his air-conditioned house in Abu Dhabi than in the desert. Soon after dawn one day early in September, however, there occurred one of those incidents that made the whole thing memorable.

He was listening to the Gazelle patrol leader’s report in his Landrover with his Operations Officer beside him. It was still being transmitted when he pressed the horn of the vehicle to alert the Lynx squadron for imminent action.

“At 0512 hours, at position 738492, mixed force of AMX tanks, Greyhound armoured cars and APC, estimated total thirty vehicles, moving east-south-east,” went the message. “If they continue present direction and speed will reach minefield gap at 850431 between 0600 and 0630. Am continuing to observe, but have fuel for only 40 minutes more on station.”

The Colonel heard his Operations Officer acknowledge the message, then switch channels and report it to HQ, as he seized his map and did some quick markings with a chinagraph pencil.

“Tell HQ I’m going to engage as soon as possible and suggest moving the Scorpion tank squadron to just this side of the minefield gap in their prepared positions. I’m going on this mission myself. And tell the Gazelle patrol to look out for us and guide us in!”

He dismounted from the Landrover and walked rapidly towards the twelve Lynx helicopters with their business-like HOT missiles slung three per side near the skids. The Squadron Commander, with his three troop leaders, was waiting in a group. Rotor blades were turning, mechanics and armaments-men checking. All other crews were mounted. Quickly he gave his orders, adding that he would accompany the squadron in the second-in-command’s Lynx.

“But it’s your show,” he added to the Squadron Commander.

Within minutes they were off, swooping over the desert very low in four groups of three. Twenty minutes later he sighted two helicopters, soon identified as the Gazelles he was looking for. There was a quick interchange of information between the Squadron Commander and the Gazelle patrol leader, then the Squadron Commander gave his orders.

“Bearing 240, three columns armoured vehicles. We attack from north-east in two waves, my group and Alpha first, taking leading vehicles; normal drill of target choice; Bravo and Charlie attack five minutes later taking rear vehicles; return to base for replenishment immediately after attack. Acknowledge.”

The time was exactly 0555 hours.

Shortly after 6 a.m. a part of the Saudi Arabian desert was a shambles of burning vehicles and dead and wounded men. There were still fitful explosions. As the Lynx squadron headed back for replenishment, the two relieving helicopters of the Gazelle patrol appeared. There was more exchange of information, more reports to base and to headquarters, which was anxious to learn whether there was any need for support from the mobile column with its guns and British Scorpion light tanks, now standing-to. The Colonel ended his own report with the words: “I don’t think the Scorpion squadron will have much more to do now.”

“I wonder if we will, either,” he added to his Operations Officer. “Anyway, it was good while it lasted.” “

Taken from Mirage in the Desert: The Overthrow of Soviet Power in its Challenge to Islam, a collection of reminiscences by officers who took part in the fighting. Amman 1986, trans, and pub. SOAS, London 1986.

The third phase of this principal operation — aimed, as we have seen, at seizing complete control of the Persian Gulf — consisted of further reinforcing Oman with Iranian and UAE forces. These, in co-operation with the Sultan’s own not inexperienced or inconsiderable army, once more began to cudgel the dissident tribesmen into obedience and to make the Yemeni ‘volunteers’ begin to wonder whether the game was worth the candle. But the elimination of Yemenis and the rehabilitation of the tribes was to be a lengthy affair.

In Southern Africa, the first real blows were struck with the simultaneous advance of four armies from Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Botswana and Namibia into South Africa in the summer of 1985. The expedition from Mozambique fared worst, that from Namibia best, and the two guerrilla incursions from Zimbabwe and Botswana, although destructive and elusive, had little impact on the outcome of the general battle. In its drive through the Transvaal, the composite army of FRELIMO, Zimbabwe, Cubans and Somalis deployed a respectable force of all arms with proper air, but poor logistic, support. But the attacking forces greatly misunderstood and underestimated their enemies. They had learned nothing from their easy victories over the Portuguese and their battles with Rhodesians. Not only did the South African Volkssturm defend their homelands with skill, savagery and success, not only did the regular South African forces operate with disturbing suddenness and speed, but, much to CASPA’s consternation, the special forces of South Africa’s army took the battle into CASPA’s own base areas, mounting deadly attacks on its airfields and supply depots, on its lines of communication, even on the city of Maputo itself. They had not bargained for this.

The resistance both in the Transvaal and in Natal of the South African Kommandos was fanatical — but it was a fanaticism tempered with cool measuring of the military odds. The Afrikaaners fought with a ferocity which shocked and dismayed both the cynical mercenaries and the dedicated guerrillas of the invading forces. They were not always successful.

“2/Lt Pieter Van der Horst had just finished setting up his first ambush. He had received information over the radio two hours earlier that a column of some fifty mixed Mozambique and Zimbabwe guerrillas, supported by two T-34 tanks, were expected to reach his patrol area about now, and it had taken him every bit of the time available to get ready. In his platoon he had thirty-two men, four French medium machine guns, two anti-tank launchers of the Karl Gustav type and two 81 mm Malaysian mortars. They were completely mobile in eight Japanese Landrover-type vehicles and had rations for a week. Two Landrovers with trailers were separately loaded with ammunition and petrol. His men carried 100 rounds each. He had chosen a disused farm which offered excellent cover and superb ambush positions. Through it the main dusty track ran on towards Lesotho. The ambush was laid out over a distance of 300 metres: the first killing group of ten men with the anti-tank weapons and two machine- guns at the front, or southern, end; the rear group with mortars and two machine-guns at the entrance to, or northern part of, the ambush; and his own HQ and support group in the centre with some ten men and plentiful supplies of grenades. His own HQ men had the flamethrowers. Everyone was out of sight, the anti-tank and anti- personnel mines laid, the detonating charges ready for distracting or deceiving the enemy.

Van der Horst’s radio crackled. It was a helicopter pilot reporting. “Column now within two miles your position, two tanks leading; remainder of force in two parties, approximate strength twenty-plus each party. Some carrying supplies. No heavy weapons.” Van der Horst gave swift and low confirmatory orders through his walkie- talkie to the two NCOs in charge of killer groups. It was to be done broadly as planned. First enemy party with tanks to be allowed to proceed unmolested to Point A; then as second enemy party reached Point B or on his order or by his opening fire, this latter party to be destroyed by machine-gun and automatic rifle fire; immediately fire to be opened by own rear group, leading group to detonate anti-tank and anti-personnel mines, engage enemy tanks with recoilless launchers and destroy enemy foot with machine-guns; his own group to use flamethrowers against tanks. All enemy weapons and ammunition to be secured. If detonating charges required for deception — under his control. If for any reason enemy column does not enter ambush, further orders on radio.

When they came in sight, the guerrilla forces did not appear to be expecting any opposition. As they advanced, they barely bothered to adopt tactical formation at all, but trudged along behind the tanks, weapons slung over shoulders, talking, chewing, laughing, the gap between the two parties a mere 100 metres. As he watched them coming, Van der Horst was thinking that his plan should work.

As a plan, it was good. But military plans, as von Moltke observed, rarely survive contact with the enemy. In this case the seemingly unwary enemy suddenly took the whole affair into their own hands. When the guerrilla column was no more than 800 metres away from the ambush, the two tanks deployed to either side of the track and opened fire, first with machine-guns, then with high-explosive shells, on the derelict farm buildings. They were well out of range of Van der Horst’s rocket launchers. The guerrilla foot soldiers rapidly dispersed on either side of