of Cabora Bassa.
The task was to locate FRELIMO targets for a Portuguese assault force. Rob Gaunt was to be the Ops Commander of a temporary FAF at Estima Air Base with all necessary equipment and communications. I was to lead a team of four recce pilots to provide targets for offensive operations by Portuguese heli-borne troops and helicopter gunships.
The second signal advised that presidential confirmation had been received for me to receive an award that made me a Member of the Legion of Merit (Operational). The congratulations I received from Tol and others went straight over my head because I was already too preoccupied with my fear of the forthcoming recce flights. These would be over areas in which I knew FRELIMO forces possessed many Strela missiles.
Tol told me to take the day off to be with Beryl and the children who I had not seen for some time. Rob Tasker and Chris Weinmann were both at base and they agreed that there was nothing requiring my immediate attention; so I briefed them to prepare three Trojans for Kevin Peinke, Mark Knight and me to fly to Estima. Kevin and Mark were the only pilots available who had shown any interest in recce, and Mozambican ground was fairly easy to read anyway. Chris Weinmann, using the fourth Trojan, was to operate out of Centenary to cover territory in the southwestern sector of the area I planned to cover.
Chris had a fair idea of the ground he would be covering but I gave him warning to be especially careful of a particular mountainous place from which heavy fire had been directed at me every time I had been there. In particular I made it clear that I would cover those areas in which Strela was known to exist and asked him not to operate above a particular line of latitude, which I marked on his maps.
At home I told Beryl I was only there for one night to change over an aircraft. She was disappointed but asked me several times what was troubling me. I assured her all was well and that I should be home within ten days; but she seemed to know otherwise. It puzzled me that she could see through my attempt to appear happy and relaxed.
On the way to Estima I popped into FAF 3 to brief Peter Cooke on the Portuguese need for recce assistance and what was required of 4 Squadron. Chris would be operating from FAF 3 so we made plans for copy of his signalled recce results to HQ to be relayed to me at Estima. We also decided on the VHF ‘natter’ frequency Chris and I would use for direct communication between each other whilst airborne, because we would be beyond the range of all other stations.
I continued with Kevin Peinke and Mark Knight to Estima where Rob Gaunt was already set up. He introduced the elderly, good-looking and immaculately dressed Brigade Commander who made it clear to all of us that he was a cavalryman, which in his view placed him amongst the ultra-elite.
Following a short planning session with the Army and Air Force officers of the assault force, we were invited to the open-sided thatched bar of the Officers’ Club for refreshments and lunch. It was there that the brigadier offered me a bottle of any drink I chose for every live FRELIMO base my youngsters and I could offer his troops. It seemed to me that he did not believe we were all we had been cracked up to be by his superiors in Lourenco Marques. The brigadier said my choice of the cognac Antiqua was a good one.
After lunch Kevin and Mark helped sort out our maps before accompanying me on a familiarisation flight to get a first feel for the area of Operation Marble. We spent a lot of time over the Cabora Bassa Dam site and westward along the northern bank of the Zambezi River whose shoreline was changing as the water backed up slowly from the new dam wall. Kevin was to operate in the area next to Chris and south of the same line of latitude I had marked on Chris Weinmann’s maps. Mark was to fly with me for a day or two on extended recce training.
On 7 April, we were routing north through the area assigned for Mark when we happened upon a large FRELIMO base. I had no doubts that it was occupied and called for the assault force to meet us at one of the river junctions we had selected for RV purposes. The brigadier could not believe we had found a target so soon after take off on our first mission.
Because of language difficulties the plan was to lead the assault force Pumas and Alouette gunships from the selected RV directly to target. The Trojan task was to provide noise cover to the approaching helicopters and mark the target with thirty-six Sneb rockets. Thereafter control would pass to the two gunships, both armed with 20mm side-firing cannons. When the gunships ran out of ammunition they would pass control to the ground force commander.
Having continued northwestward to get beyond sight and sound range of the FRELIMO base, I followed a long circuitous route to get back south to the RV point where we waited for the airborne force. Mark and I were green with envy when we saw it approaching us. In this single lift the four Pumas were carrying more troops than could be carried by all the helicopters in Rhodesia. As for the two 20mm gunships, we simply did not have any then.
As agreed, the helicopters held a loose formation to my left so that I could watch them all the way. I marked target with a raking salvo of rockets and pulled up to see how the Portuguese handled themselves. Coming around in long line astern for a left-hand orbit around the base, the two gunships went into action immediately because there were FRELIMO people running in all directions. The time was about 10:15.
All four Pumas dropped their troops south of the target but so close together I could not believe it. They then lifted, turned about in the hover and disappeared the way they had come. The gunships were busy but made no attempt to stop FRELIMO breaking northward.
Never before had I seen so many armed terrorists. Down at about 1,500 feet, flying a little higher than the gunships, I could see everyone was armed, some with RPG rocket launchers. I was so sorry that I had expended my rockets because there were tight groups which remained stationary to fire at the two gunships whenever they came close and then moved on. The gunships concentrated on buildings that caught fire immediately. Their crews had either not seen the concentrations of terrorists I could see so clearly or had chosen to ignore them. At the end of their second orbit all ammunition had been expended so they rolled out and disappeared in the direction the Pumas had gone.
I watched at least six large groups of FRELIMO move away in good order. They were paying no attention to my aircraft so far as I could see. Over one kilometre to the south of the FRELIMO groups, the assault troops were still being shaken out into an extended sweep line before commencing a painfully slow advance towards the base. At least fifteen minutes had elapsed from the time they were dropped to the time the troops reached the southern edge of the base. By then every FRELIMO group had melted away into the bush farthest from the troops. I left the area in disgust because this, the target of my dreams, had been totally wasted.
Instead of continuing on with our recce, we flew back to Estima to reload rocket pods and tell Rob Gaunt of the frustrating balls-up Mark and I had witnessed. Then, whilst positioning to continue our recce, we found that the Pumas were already back at the FRELIMO base, uplifting assault troops and captured equipment. It was not yet 12:00. All structures in the camp were burning; so that was that! No follow up on tracks as might be expected. Just packing up and going home!
The clear blue cloudless sky conditions and the presence of Strela made me move up to 6,000 feet above ground. Moving on from the smoke-covered base, we picked up strong trails leading northwestward. The route given by a number of converging and diverging pathways was a cakewalk and we found four more large bases along the line, all of which were in use. Tucked away in the densest cover either side of the tracks were many small camps linked to fields of maize, rapoko and cassava; obviously civilians were giving FRELIMO succour and hiding from the Portuguese.
With no protection against the heat-seeking sensors of Strela missiles, and flying in perfect conditions for these weapons, I watched for them every second. If I spotted one coming up, my plan was to cut power and roll upside down to screen off the hot exhaust stubs. At the time I did not know that the paint over the entire surface of my Trojan could be ‘seen’ by these weapons and that my plan was utterly worthless.
Having worked for some time I had become quite relaxed when, out of the corner of my eye, I picked up a near vertical zigzag line of faint greyish white smoke. It ran through a position we had passed in orbit about thirty
