Squadron Leader Rogers had already given me his approval in principle so it was just a matter of getting Air HQ’s authority to explore the possibilities. The two most senior members of Air Staff immediately saw the advantage of speed tracking with helicopters and dogs. Both were especially interested in the possibility of wresting advantage from terrorists who might be lying in ambush. Except for the accidental death of Ken Pierson, most of our losses during Operation Nickel had come from ambush situations, hence the Air Staff interest. They realised that, if the tracker dog system worked, it would become essential to have additional airborne helicopters with troops for vertical envelopment of terrorists located by dogs.
With no objection from Air Staff, I put the same case to the Technical Staff. Here I found the same cynicism as when I had sought permission to develop pressure refuellers. The self-same officer who had spiked that request with his story about refuelling Spitfires from four-gallon Jerry cans spiked this project also. He asked, “PB, if we train elephants to fire machine-guns, will that interest you?” I said it certainly would but that this was not what I had come to discuss.
Any project requiring expenditure of money had to be wholly approved by both Air and Technical branches so the radio tracker dog plan, contested by only one officer, seemed to be doomed, at least for the time being.
Find Sherriff
ON 15 SEPTEMBER 1967, I flew to Sipolilo Police Station where Flight Lieutenant John Swart awaited me. He had been on a four-day exploration walk with Chief Superintendent Ted Sheriff in the northern section of the Umvukwes mountain range. They had become separated and big John’s search for the older and equally big Ted had been fruitless, so he walked out to seek help. His main concern was that Ted may have fallen and incapacitated himself in rough country that was full of ridges and deep ravines.
The mineral-rich Umvukwes range, known as ‘The Dyke’, runs for over 150 kilometres in a near-continuous mix of folded mountains and sharp ridge lines running from the southern Mcheka-wa-ka-Sungabeta mountain range to the high ground of the Zambezi escarpment between the Musengezi and Hunyani river exits into the Zambezi Valley. Within a northern section of this range known as the Horseshoe mountains there existed a unique species of palm trees known only to this areatogether with rare orchids and a great variety of birds. John and Ted’s interest in these wonders of nature had been the reason for their exploration trip.
The helicopter is a truly amazing machine when it comes to searching for someone who wants to be found. John Swart directed me to the spot where separation had occurred. In less than five minutes we made a detailed search of the area that had taken John one whole day to cover. It took another five minutes of searching to find Ted at the bottom of a deep ravine next to a fast-flowing stream from which we winched him to safety. Apart from his embarrassment, the chief superintendent was none the worse for his experience.
Mountain flying
IN OCTOBER 1967, I CONDUCTED Terry Jones’ helicopter conversion and finalised the mountain-flying phase Hugh Slatter needed for his helicopter instructor’s rating. Mountain flying was a very important aspect in helicopter training because it prepared pilots to recognise and manage dangerous wind conditions, to judge distances when approaching to land on high ledges and peaks and to conduct mountain rescues using the cable winches that we called hoists.
Mountain-flying training, though potentially dangerous, was great fun. Invariably our rest breaks included picnic lunches, trout fishing and naked swimming in icy mountain pools. For Hugh’s training with technician Ewett Sorrell we commandeered Corporal Jerry Duncan of the Station Photographic Section to make pictorial records of helicopter operations in the mountains.
One photograph we wanted necessitated placing Jerry on an impossibly small slippery rock to show hoisting work against the backdrop of Martin’s Falls.
In November John Rogers received notice that he would be leaving us. His disappointment at leaving helicopters was offset by his posting to command No 5 (Canberra) Squadron.
On the other hand, OC 1 (Hunter) Squadron, Squadron Leader Norman Walsh, was really distressed about his posting off Hunters to take command of helicopters. Like most pilots who had not flown helicopters, Norman looked upon thesemachines with disdain: “Bloody egg beaters! Not aircraft at all!” He was echoing a general view and did not believe me when I told him that he would come to enjoy flying Alouettes more than Hunters.
Family in helicopter
IN THE LATTER HALF OF December and early January 1968 I was with the Army at Kariba for local training. Air HQ took advantage of this by having me take over FAF 2 so that the permanent OC could take long overdue leave. This gave me opportunity to get Beryl and the children to Kariba for the Christmas and New Year period. We stayed at the Cutty Sark Hotel on Lake Kariba where I was in continuous contact with FAF 2. Staying at the same hotel was Hugh Maude who had been one of Winston Churchill’s wartime secretaries
Hugh Maude was a political friend of the Rhodesian Government and hated what the Labour Government was doing to destroy our country. He was enjoying a break from political work at Kariba and asked me to take him on a visit to FAF 2. Debbie and Paul already knew Hugh because of his friendship with my mother and Berry. So they asked him if they might accompany him in his chauffeur-driven car. Beryl and I in our own car were leading the way when we came upon ‘George’, a well-known elephant bull who was always close to Kariba Airfield.
George was browsing close to the roadside so I passed him and stopped well forward leaving plenty of room for Hugh’s driver. The chauffeur obviously did not know too much about elephants because he stopped before reaching George. I told Beryl I did not like this and was signalling the chauffer to come forward when George decided it was time for fun. He charged first towards us then turned for the other car.
The chauffeur reversed at great speed but George was moving faster. Only when the trunk of the screaming jumbo was over the car bonnet did George break away having enjoyed his naughty car-chasing habit. Five minutes later we arrived at FAF 2 and listened to simultaneously spoken stories from our two excited children. Hugh and his driver were noticeably quiet.
Next morning, on Christmas day, I received a call from FAF 2 to say that the SAP helicopter permanently based there was well overdue from a task it had been sent to conduct in the Chirundu area. Beryl and the children accompanied me to the airfield where they were to wait whilst I flew down to Chirundu to investigate the SAP helicopter situation.
My technician, Corporal Butch Phillips, and I were about to lift off when we saw the entire FAF contingent walking towards us with Beryl and the children in tow. The senior NCO came to my door and shouted, “Sir, you cannot pass up the opportunity to give your family a ride in the helicopter. Nobody here will say a word. Please
