Rob’s strike to pass further correction to Rich Culpan, Chris Dixon and Ginger Baldwin.
I had completely forgotten how to handle 6G, which locked my head awkwardly forcing me to roll my eyes hard up and right to spot the strike just before experiencing ‘grey out’. Fortunately the lead 30mm cannon strike was just where it needed to be but I could not lift my hand to the radio transmitter button on the throttle to say this. Hugh had to relay my G-stressed and awkwardly spoken words, “On target”.
Following this experience, thought was given to converting recce pilots onto Hunters so that future strikes need not involve FAC and would ensure that recce pilots could switch between ‘puddle-jumpers’ and jets without the problems I had just encountered. For Chris Weinmann this would have been a simple matter because he had recently come from Hunters. I was really keen to fly these lovely aircraft but, very reluctantly, came to the conclusion that the advantages to be gained were outweighed by the cost of training and the time it would take to position at Thornhill or New Sarum for each airstrike.
The Air Staff had been under directive from Air Marshal Mick McLaren to try every tactic possible to improve airstrike versatility and accuracy. To this end, and unknown to me, photographic reconnaissance (PR) had been flown on Mozambican targets that Chris and I had reported but not committed to airstrike.
Repeated PR had been conducted to watch for obvious changes on those targets best suited to first-run jet-strikes. Then Flight Lieutenant Bill Buckle and his Photo Reconnaissance Interpreter (PRI) team at New Sarum selected a target set in heavy bush on the east bank of a dry river where a distinctive bend with visible water made identification certain. I was called to New Sarum to look at the photographs. The PRIs were happy when I agreed the camp was much larger than when I found it two months earlier. Bill briefed the jet crews at 9 o’clock on the morning of 23 February, just two days after the attack I had led with Hugh Slatter. It went in at 1228B and worked out exactly as planned.
During March I led two successful ops against terrorists inside Rhodesia. Externally I picked up a small base near Mukumbura in which fifteen head of cattle were penned at its centre. Being so close to the border, it was decided to attack this base with Hunters at first light the following day and follow up immediately with RLI heli- borne troops. The plan was for helicopters and myself to fly from Centenary to Mukumbura where the troops would be waiting for first light lift-of.
At Centenary I was doing my pre-flight inspection with the aid of a torch when I found a yellow bone-dome hanging from the pitot-head under the port wing of my Trojan. It belonged to Flight Sergeant Ray Cox who was one of the technicians on the flight line at the time. I called him over and asked him to remove his bone-dome, then continued with my inspection.
The helicopters were lifting off as I taxiied out to the runway. Late in my take-off run I found I had to apply a great deal of right rudder to counter a strong yawing force to the left. By this time it was too late to abort take- off. Once airborne I saw the helicopter lights winking away ahead of me and continued my climb, still with heavy pressure on the right rudder to maintain balanced flight. I told the lead helicopter pilot I was experiencing some difficulty but said I would establish the cause when we reached Mukumbura.
We crossed over the escarpment as the first rays of dawn lit up the horizon on our right side. By this time my left foot was over my right foot to help maintain pressure on the right rudder pedal. I turned to look at the rotating beacons of the helicopters flying below and to my left when, with horror, I saw somebody hanging upside-down on my left wing wearing a bone-dome with its visor closed. It took a moment or two to realise there was no actual body involved; it was Ray Cox’s yellow helmet hanging on the pitot head by its chinstrap.
Foolishly I told the lead helicopter pilot the cause of my flight control problem. I could have saved myself the ribbing that came my way had I simply kept quiet and pulled ahead to land and remove the bone-dome at Mukumbura before the helicopter boys arrived.
When I marked for the Hunters, I was happy to see that the cattle-pen was empty. Helicopters were on the ground within thirty-five seconds of the lead strike and the troops were already moving in during re-strike. Unfortunately the CTs must have heard the helicopters before the noise cover of the Trojan became effective because fresh tracks of running terrorists were located going south-east towards another base I had located but discounted.
Cattle tracks heading north were aerial-tracked for no more than three kilometres were I found fifty-five head of cattle. These were rounded up by the troops and driven back into Rhodesia because, having been stolen from those few unfortunate Mozambican locals who still lived in the area, they constituted an immediate source of CT food.
Fear of landing in enemy territory
FROM THE SAS TAC HQ at Macombe, 4 Squadron pilots continued to be scrambled to assist troops deep inside hostile territory. This Air Strike Report by Chris Dickinson on 8 March 1974 gives an idea of the sort of work the youngsters were doing.
While doing Telstar for RAR c/s 42, I was tasked to go overhead c/s B13 SAS and help them out. Difficulty was experienced in getting to their location i.e. UT 368920 because of low cloud but once in the area I was able to maintain 1500 ft AGL. c/s B13 were manning an OP and they directed me to attack a small valley at UT 364914 from where they had been fired upon. I did two strikes from north to south using front gun and SNEB. They then asked me to attack an area around a mealie field some 200 yards to the west of my first attack. This was done using SNEB. They then indicated a suspected ter camp at UT 358905 adjacent to a mealie field. I did one attack from south east to north west using front gun and SNEB. They then indicated a further suspect area at UT 353888 which was to the east of two mealie fields. I did a north to south attack using SNEB. At this stage it was at last light and I proceeded back to Macombe as the Musengezi airstrip was unserviceable and I did not have sufficient fuel to get to Centenary. The weapons were on target and it was later learnt that my rockets had destroyed part of a camp complex although everything had been concealed in thick bush.
STOP PRESS. When the c/s was recovered from the area it was confirmed that three people had been killed and buried at the point UT 364914 where the strike had gone in on the camp complex.
There was always concern for single-engined aircraft operating alone deep inside Mozambique, as in this case. Antiaircraft action or engine failure might force a pilot down; a situation that was fraught with peril. If a pilot survived the landing, whether hurt or unhurt, his chances of survival were very low unless he was close enough for anyone to pick up his radio distress call. However much of the time was spent beyond ‘friendly forces’ radio range.
Personally I was petrified by the work I did over Mozambique and worried that others might notice this. As I write, a quarter of a century later, it is easy for me to admit to this failing. At the time however, I was annoyed by my inability to overcome the tight knot in my stomach and having to relying on four stiff whiskies after dinner to help me get some sleep. If I was on internal work, I always enjoyed a good breakfast that set me up for the day’s work; but before recces over Mozambique I could not face a meal knowing that I would be operating for over five hours beyond radio range of any Rhodesian.
Everyone knew that if I ran into trouble this would not be known until too late and that a search and rescue attempt would defer to the following day. So, to assist searchers, I carried a small emergency radio beacon which, when switched on, transmitted a continuous low-powered coded distress signal. This device also had a voice and receiving facility that was limited to a very short duration before its battery was drained.
I think it was Captain Mick Graham of SAS who flew one Mozambican sortie with me. He enjoyed the experience because it allowed him to see for himself what he had read in my recce report signals. But the main purpose of his flight was to assess the feasibility of an SAS soldier accompanying me on future missions to keep me out of trouble if I went down. My hopes were dashed when Mick said that, having seen the ground we had covered, this was simply not on. A single, super-fit, SAS soldier might evade hostile forces on his own, but not if he had to take care of me as well.
An alternative solution was offered. It involved eight recently trained RLI paratroopers loitering at height in
