experience in teaching from the rear seat so that I could see ground on Dag Jones’s side of the aircraft. During our second sortie on 11 June 1976 we were aerial-tracking a strong trail that led us to a brand-new CT camp. We immediately called for a depleted Fireforce of K-Car plus two G-Cars. Being passenger caused me to see the action from a new perspective that turned out to be very useful for reasons still clear in my mind.
Firstly, I had not seen a fresh base for a long time. Secondly I could see that, as in many actions past, there were insufficient troops immediately available to Kip Donald, the RLI Fireforce commander. I knew there were plenty of troops available at Mount Darwin and that a Dakota, then available on the ground at FAF 4, could have brought them across at the same time that the helicopters arrived; but none of these troops was para- trained.
The third point of importance came from my direct observation of Frantan effects at the moment of ignition. All of my many Frantan attacks had been from Provosts whose wings disallowed observation of weapon effects at the moment of impact. Now I saw one Frantan spew flaming gel at forty-five degrees to flight line thereby missing two CT’s I saw so clearly. The second Frantan did a similar action but actually killed one CT that I had not seen at all. I realise immediately that steel construction and the container’s impact orientation were the reasons for haphazard distribution of flame. I vowed to myself that I would do something about producing highly frangible units that were both stable and aimable.
The CTs had chosen a site in thick but narrow riverine bush with open grasslands all around, except at one end where a sparsely wooded ridge met up with the bush. In the dry season, the CTs would only have had the ridge as an escape route but, because of late rains in 1976, the grass was still high and green and severely impeded the forward-visibility to the soldiers on the ground. With too few troops, Kipper Donald forced the pace of his troops, resulting in the wounding of one of his men in the first contact before the responsible CT was dispatched.
In this action, as with so many others, it was obvious that there was need for more troops to be immediately available in the vital period. With limited helicopter availability, this could only be achieved if Fireforces included paratroopers in an accompanying Dakota. In this particular contact, Kipper Donald could have used paratroopers the moment the CTs’ presence had been confirmed. This would have prevented six CTs crawling away through the long grass. When I took the idea of a para-trooping Dakota with each Fireforce to Air HQ, Group Captain Norman Walsh told me that, having been approached with the same idea by Army HQ, he was actively attending to the matter. In fact the RLI had already commenced paratrooper training. This was good news indeed.

Operation Sand
IN A TOP-SECRET EXCHANGE (Operation Sand), Rhodesian Air Force instructors, technicians and students were attached to the South African Air Force. This was necessary because our ageing Vampires could not keep up with the production of new pilots. Flying training on Impala jets was conducted at Langebaan Air Base and later in Durban. This was a quid pro quo exchange for our training needs and for operational experience needed by SAAF helicopter crews. At the time we also manned one entire SAAF Mirage lll squadron in another top-secret arrangement.

Although I was aware of this and had met some of the personnel during my many visits to CSIR in Pretoria, it is surprising how little I knew about the reasons and objectives involved. They might even have been preparing for the on-take of Mirages by our own Air Force but no questions were asked and no information was given.‘Top Secret’ meant exactly what it implied and to this day I do not know the answers. But, from one senior SAAF officer I later learned something that really intrigued me. Unfortunately the Rhodesian jet pilot involved in this story died in an air accident before I could verify what I now record.
It was Flight Lieutenant Ricky Culpan who was very disappointed by Mirage III air-to-air gunnery results. Ricky was not content to accept that such a sophisticated aircraft could be equipped with an air-to-air aiming system that gave excellent pilots very poor results. To cut a long story short, I understand that he came to the conclusion that an essential component of information was missing and had to be introduced into the software of the gunsight’s computer system. This was the precise angle between the gun-line and the airflow that, in the case of this delta-wing fighter, varied more than in conventional fighter designs. The actual airflow angle had to be provided by an externally mounted vane.
How Ricky got through the ‘red-tape’ at SAAF HQ I do not know, but permission appears to have been given to fit this sensor vane on a Mirage III airframe and link it to the sighting computer. An acquaintance of Ricky’s, who I was told was a fundi in computer software, upgraded the gunsight’s computer programme by integrating the sensor vane’s input. This resulted in a manyfold improvement in air-to-air gunnery results.
By recording this story I hope one day to receive confirmation of it because it places my one-time neighbour in Thornhill Married Quarters, Ricky Culpan, on a higher level of imagination and determination than I thought he possessed.
Diverse personalities and different situations
BY MID-1976 ALL THE FIREFORCES were engaged daily in a variety of actions against ZANLA. Some actions were very successful and others drew blanks. There were so many individuals involved, and the actions so widespread and diverse in nature, that it is impossible to give a chronological sequence of events or provide a concise picture of the happenings in each area. By this time ZANLA had extended operations from the northeast all the way down the eastern side of Rhodesia to the South African border.
I have taken a very small sample of events during 1976 in each area and have focused on three individuals having different ranks and operational functions. One was a commander on the ground, one flew helicopters and one flew Lynx.
My selected individuals are Tol Janeke, Mike Borlace and Cocky Benecke. The first two individuals might not have been first choice for many but almost every Rhodesian serviceman would have selected Cocky.
All helicopter aircrew were top-line operators; too many to mention personally. However, one pilot’s name kept coming to the fore and would remain there for some time. Many of the helicopter technician-gunners loved to fly with him whilst others considered him too bloody dangerous. Nevertheless, Flight Lieutenant Mike Borlace, who has already featured in other actions described in this book, recorded his seventh ASR as K-Car pilot in the Op Thrasher area at the beginning of June. His gunner was Sergeant Henry Jarvie, a clown when occasion permitted, who was deadly serious in his duties.
Due to the decision to have two Fireforces, one at Grand Reef and the other at Chipinga, Mike had only two troopers carrying eight soldiers, plus a supporting Lynx. He was called upon to take on a group of CTs reported to be resting by a small stream. The soldiers were inexperienced in Fireforce operations and did not have their own officer airborne; not that this mattered because K-Car pilots had so often proven that their abilities were equal to the best of RLI commanders.
Air Lieutenant Chris Dickinson (M8 Black Lead) had Sergeant Phil Tubbs as his gunner. Air Lieutenant Atkinson (V8 Black 2) and his gunner Sergeant Griffen, were both OpPolo men. Air Sub-Lieutenant Ray Bolton (M4) flew the Lynx. In his ASR Mike used # in lieu of the usual c/s and # Sparrow 1 was a tracker callsign.
Mike’s ASR reads: