FRELIMO.
A few men within ZANU’s ranks had received Russian training before crossing over from ZAPU to ZANU. This caused differences in opinions between the advocates of Russian and Maoist philosophies. In a nutshell the Russians believed in direct confrontation for a quick result whereas the Chinese approach accepted that a long period was needed to adequately prepare the ground for widespread insurrection and protracted armed action. Whereas the Russians relied on arms, the Chinese relied on people.
FRELIMO settled the matter by insisting that only the Maoist approach would work. ZANU were given directions on how they had to prepare their firm support base amongst the people for recruits, security, intelligence and the subsistence needed to support large numbers of fighters on a continuous basis over a protracted period.
In the meanwhile many ZANU men were being prepared for combat at Mgagao in Tanzania. This new training base had replaced Itubi in 1971. It was in this year too that our doubts about Portuguese forces’ ability to contain FRELIMO were confirmed when Rhodesian forces came into contact with FRELIMO forces along our border during an operation codenamed ‘Lobster’. By early 1972 ZANU was ready to make its first reconnaissance probes into Rhodesia, FRELIMO having secured the ground right up to the border and having also concluded preliminary arrangements with some tribal chiefs inside Rhodesia.
Special Branch detective Section Officer Peter Stanton, who I would come to know quite well, had warned of ZANLA’s imminent arrival in the northeastern sector of Rhodesia. First indications from sources inside Zambia showed that ZANLA would be probing on a wide front. Then civilians coming over our border seeking refuge from FRELIMO domination told Peter that ZANLA reconnaissance units were based near the border east of Mukumbura. In late March they named one location as Matimbe base. This was confirmed when the SAS (Special Air Service) mounted an operation that resulted in a number of kills. All the bodies were dressed in FRELIMO uniforms but documents confirmed most were ZANLA men.
Documents captured at Matimbe base revealed two important things. One was that indoctrination of headmenwithin Rhodesia had already succeeded in obtaining willing recruits to swell ZANLA’s numbers, thus eliminating any further need to press-gang for recruits in Zambia. The other confirmed that ZANLA intended to infiltrate on a wide front to spread Rhodesian forces and interrupt the smooth running of the economy by forcing an increase in the call-up of Territorial Army soldiers.
External recce training
4 SQUADRON’S RECCE TRAINING AREA WAS limited to ground west of where the SAS had contacted ZANLA at Matimbe Base. I had a fair idea of what we would be looking for in Mozambique but felt apprehensive about teaching my men whilst learning the ropes myself. Although I was only expected to teach pilots recce, I decided that the technicians should participate to involve them directly and to see how they took to the task. To make things manageable, separate periods of ten days were allocated to each of two halves of the squadron.
Following introductory flights to study tribal patterns near Gwelo, I took the first half of the squadron to Kariba to compare animal paths with those of humans. We then moved to Gutsa Airfield sited on the west bank of the Musengezi River at the base of the Zambezi escarpment and forty-six kilometres south of the Mozambican border.
Air Force Volunteer Reservists under Flight Lieutenant Geoff Fenn, who had his faithful old servant ‘Sixpence’ in tow, had already prepared Gutsa base for us. In addition to the tented accommodation, Geoff had set up an operations tent with radio and telecommunication facilities. The camp lay under tall mopani trees between the runway and an established Army base. At the time D Coy RAR under command of Major Bruce Hulley was there.
It was the start of winter so the weather was pleasant and relatively cool. This was important because, in the very hot conditions of the valley during summer, it would not have been possible for the Trojan aircraft to take off with full fuel and four men. As it was we had to turn right when airborne to avoid the high banks on the eastern side of the Musengezi River and climb along the course of the river until high enough to turn for Mozambique.
On our first night at Gutsa I noticed abnormal drum-beating activity both close and far off downriver. I asked Bruce Hulley what this was all about. He said that in all his previous stints at Gutsa no such drum-beating occurred other than during customary beer-drinking parties every Saturday night. Yet during this spell there had been many drums beating every single night. The abnormal activity worried him and he had made this known to Army HQ.
One night the drums stopped their perpetual throbbing because, at the request of the local tribal chief, Bruce had undertaken to shoot a troublesome crocodile. The beast had lived in a large pool on the Musengezi River for as long as the chief could remember and it had been responsible for killing a number of people. Recently the dreaded reptile had dragged a young girl screaming into the river. She was never seen again.
I accompanied Bruce and two of his men to the large boomerang-shaped pool in which the crocodile lived. We were all armed with FN rifles and Bruce had a powerful headlamp plus four hand-grenades. The intense beam of light tracked back and forth over the water and along the reeds of the far bank searching for crocodile eyes that reflect light like bright stars. There was no sign of the brute so Bruce lobbed two widely separated grenades into the water. As the grenades went in, I slipped on the steep slope of the high bank overlooking the pool and very nearly went over the sheer drop into the water just as the dull thuds from the grenades mushroomed in the water. My slide was checked in time to see the huge crocodile’s eyes light up in the beam of torchlight midway between the turbulent patches of water. We all fired together hitting the croc several times. When spray from the hail of bullets settled there was no sign of the brute, which was never seen again. Next night the drums were beating again.
4 Squadron needed to make detailed reconnaissance of almost 3,000-square nautical miles of territory. This was divided into five overlapping sectors and each crew was allocated to a sector that was changed every day to allow everyone to work every inch of the entire area twice. I flew with all crews in turn and from the sixth day roamed the entire area in my own aircraft checking on previous day reports and picking up on any information that had been missed.
Within the first four days the Ops Room map had every path, village and field plotted. The fields were marked accurately to show size and shape for future comparison. Villages were marked in two colours. One colour showed occupied villages with the number of huts in active use whilst the other colour recorded the position and size of abandoned villages.
Once the primary and obvious information had been acquired, we commenced a search for hidden habitations. This resulted in the location of a handful of hidden camps complete with bashas, which were judged to be for civilians in hiding. They were difficult to see from our operating height, which I had set at 2,000 feet above ground. All crews had been briefed that, under no circumstance, were they to descend below this height. In the event that a crew located something that needed a second opinion, they were either to call me over or ask another crew operating close by to do so.
During the morning of the seventh day, with three days still remaining before the second half of the squadron was due to arrive, John Blythe-Wood and David Rowe disobeyed my instruction. These two young officers and their two technicians located a place in a line of thick riverine bush where faint human paths (they proved to be toilet paths) suggested that there was a camp hidden under the trees. Rather than bother me, they decided to make a low pass to get a close look under the tree canopies.
I was about forty-five nautical miles away when John Blythe-Wood called to say that he was returning to base. His transmission was distorted and unusually weak but I gathered a fire had been put out, the turbo-charger had failed, level flight was being maintained and he would reach base safely. I was not concerned because John’s voice, though faint, was calm. Some time passed before I heard him call finals at Gutsa; so I put the matter out of my mind and continued my work.
