CHAPTER SEVEN

KOEVOET, NIGHT OPS AND A LIFE-CHANGING STAFF COURSE

Gunship … Gunship … This is Zulu Sierra.’ The call was urgent and authoritative.

Reply was immediate: ‘Zulu Sierra go’.

‘This is Zulu Sierra. We have spoor approximately 15 minutes old. Number in group … five.’

‘Roger Zulu Sierra … We should be overhead in five minutes. Stand by to throw white phos.’

‘This is Zulu Sierra. Standing by.’

‘OK Zulu Sierra, you’re visual … throw phosphorus now!’

‘Confirmed’, came the reply ‘white phos on the ground.’

‘Roger Zulu Sierra … I have your white phos visual. We’re approximately two minutes out … you should be hearing our rotors any moment.’ ‘Gotcha gunship … let’s do it!’

‘Gotcha gunship … let’s do it!’

The white phosphorous grenade exploded on the ground and the mission leader in the Alouette altered his heading to fly directly towards the cloud of white smoke rising above the trees. It marked the call sign’s position. The scenario was typical of a call-out for chopper support from one of the most successful fighting forces used in the insurgent war along the Angolan border.

In South-West Africa, the Police Counter Insurgency¹unit was called Koevoet, the Afrikaans word for crowbar. Loosely defined, a crowbar is a straight metal rod or bar of steel with one end flattened like a crow’s foot which is used as a lever. Koevoet’s declared role was to prise out insurgents sheltering among the local population.

Insurgents active in South-West Africa feared them as did FAPLA, especially whenever Koevoet units in their Casspir infantry fighting vehicles crossed the border to do battle with government forces. As a police unit, Koevoet was not supposed operate beyond the frontiers of the home state, but they did so, often.

In its everyday duties—either in the Operational Area or in the later stages of South Africa’s domestic insurrection before Nelson Mandela was released from prison—Koevoet had acquired a reputation as an efficient, no-nonsense unit with a remarkable élan that usually only became evident when circumstances became tough.

The unit’s role in the bush war—in contrast to its urban control in South Africa—was exemplary, largely because of its astonishing strike rate. Koevoet notched up more confirmed kills than any other unit, the South African Army included, for the duration of this two-decade conflict.

Comparatively small compared to other fighting groups, Koevoet operated largely as a Pseudo Unit. Apart from its white officers and NCOs, it was composed almost entirely of former guerrilla insurgents who, having been captured, usually in battle, were ‘turned’ to fight for their former enemies. Similar ploys were used by the British in Kenya against the Mau Mau and, before that, in the Malaysian Emergency of the 1950s and 1960s against what were referred to in news reports as ‘Communist Terrorists’ or, colloquially, CTs.

The unit had several additional strengths, including remarkable tracking skills. Their staying power in the field was regarded by those who spent time with them as phenomenal: kills were sometimes made days after the first set of tracks had been spotted in the dry, arid country adjoining Angola. This was not an unusual feature in time of war, but Koevoet’s adversaries were young, strong, fit and able to keep on the move, usually at the double, sometimes for days at a stretch. However, Koevoet regulars proved equally resilient and more often than not were able to stay on their tracks, also on foot and also at the double.

Also, the Koevoet’s officers, both commissioned and non-commissioned ranks, had the ability to ‘talk’ approaching Alouette gunships into the fray moments before a full-blown contact became imminent. In Nellis’ view, this was helicopter warfare at its most effective and, as he likes to point out, the tactics employed are likely to be studied by protagonists of this form of counter-insurgency warfare for a long time to come. Certainly, the systems employed have an application today in some of the small wars with which the international community remains saddled in Africa, the Middle East and Asia.

As a thoroughly integrated black and white unit, with Africans in the majority, the combat unit in the field had few of the customary military trappings that one usually expected to find. During time spent with the Koevoet, both in Ovamboland and in the adjoining Kaokoveld region, where conditions on the ground were even more unforgiving, this author was regarded as little more than one of the gang. Scribblers embedded with military units usually enjoy certain perks, but not with this crowd. My food was the same as that of the rest of the team and so was my strap-up seat in the Casspir. My bedroll was also solely my responsibility.

The unit was formed in 1979, initially with a preponderance of white security policemen and black special constables. Its objective, when the call came, was to react quickly by vehicle to any intelligence that might have come in about SWAPO cadres operating in their deployment area. As the potential of the unit became more apparent, Koevoet was expanded to become a sizeable force with the acquisition of a number of ‘tame insurgents’, all the while maintaining its quick reaction capability.

Each call sign was manned by a mixture of policemen, consisting of a white team leader, white section leaders and approximately 40 black policemen. Most of the leadership group had originally worked as policemen in South Africa and were on extended tours of duty. The black component was almost entirely tribal Ovambo and the majority were trackers, some with outstanding follow-up ability under the most difficult semi-desert conditions. They could determine from a single spoor, the numbers of people involved, whether they were moving light or heavy, and follow it while on the run.

A typical Koevoet operational team would be equipped with four Casspir IFVs and a Blesbok logistic supply vehicle. All undercarriages were protected against landmines and the cabs were specially developed for Southern African bush conditions. Each vehicle carried its own armament and, depending on the ‘negotiating skills’ of its crew, those weapons might range from a 7.62mm light machine gun to a 20mm aircraft cannon adapted for vehicle use.

When information on an insurgent group was received, a team would deploy and, from intelligence gained from chatting to villagers in the suspect area, the squad, by a process of analysis and common sense, would try to establish where the insurgents might be hiding. That was when the unit’s trackers came into their own; they would follow the tracks in the sand while jogging ahead of the Casspirs.

As soon as the guerrillas—invariably SWAPO insurgents, occasionally with a sprinkling of South African ANC or Angolan militants—were made aware that the unit was on their tracks, they would attempt to escape by moving swiftly to a safer area. Once the spoor or tracks of an insurgent group were found, the operational lifespan of the enemy unit would invariably be reduced to hours.

Tracking and attack patterns were similar each time a contact became likely. From the start, there would be regular radio comms with headquarters who, in turn, would advise the air force of developments. If a contact was likely, a pair of Alouette gunships might move towards a forward base and be placed on standby. That, basically, was the role of Neall Ellis and his chopper strike teams.

After the trackers reckoned they were 30 minutes or less behind an enemy group, the gunship crews would be alerted and the helicopters would move in for the final action, initially standing off a short distance from the ground team involved in the follow-up. By then, the helicopters would be in touch with the Koevoet commander and await his order to move in for the kill. In the final stages they would report:

‘Gunships overhead.’

‘Roger gunships … The terrs have bombshelled and we’re following up on the tracks of a pair of them.’

‘Roger Zulu Sierra … Number two, take the wide orbit and range up to four clicks ahead.’

The Alouettes, usually with Neall Ellis or Arthur Walker at the controls, would fly a set pattern during the initial stage of the search. This was basically two over-lapping, left-hand orbits, ranging ahead of the tracker teams as well as the vehicles on the ground. There was good reason for the left-hand orbit: the helicopter’s cannon was mounted with its barrel pointing out of the left-hand door. It also ensured that the cannon was pointing downwards, which allowed for a quick reaction time should a threat materialize.

The lead gunship would fly a narrow kidney-shaped orbit, ranging up to 3km ahead of the Casspirs, and approximately 200ft above the trees. Number Two’s orbit was considerably wider and usually flown between 600ft and 800ft above the ground. It would range from 2km up to 5km from the IFVs. While the narrower orbit was primarily to detect any evidence of a potential ambush, the more distant search was to prevent the enemy from bombshelling and speeding away from the follow-up.

One of the problems facing the air crews was the fairly constant threat of an air collision, especially once the shooting had started and attention was distracted elsewhere. As Nellis commented, ‘it was always something that we had to be aware of during a follow-up operation … we had to watch very carefully for it … there were some close shaves in the early days’.

To prevent a collision, the two helicopters had to maintain height separation, with Number Two in the formation responsible for planning his orbit in such a way that he would keep clear of his leader’s flight path.

‘Gunships … this is Zulu Sierra. The fuckers are around here somewhere … we’ve found several spots in the bush where this bunch seems to have laid up … appears they are now taking cover under the trees … trackers estimate the group is 10 minutes ahead.’

‘Roger Zulu Sierra … Number 2 … tighten up your orbit and come in a little closer … and you are clear to use flushing fire.’

The indication that the insurgents were taking cover in a copse of trees meant that they were now within the orbits of the two helicopters and, in all likelihood, had sighted the aircraft. The pilots and the men on the ground were aware that, with time, SWAPO insurgents had become adept at taking effective measures to avoid visual detection from the air. Thus, when an aircraft overflew their position, they would hide behind some of the heavier tree trunks, keeping the tree between them and the search team above. As soon as the threat had passed, even temporarily, the insurgents would dart across to the next tree and repeat the tactic, sometimes dozens of times over. Another ploy would be to crawl into a thick bush and remain prostrate for as long as possible until the aircraft was no longer in sight. To counter this tactic while in orbit, the gunner on board the chopper would continue searching towards the rear of the helicopter. If weight allowed, a member of the ground team would be picked up to provide an extra set of eyes for the search.

At some stage, the lead gunship pilot would tighten his orbit still further. If the gunner suddenly instructed the pilot to turn, it would usually suggest that he might have spotted something. Smiles would then abound on the faces of the ground troops, especially if there was the sound of stalling rotor blades. That would mean that the pilot was pushing his machine into a tight turn while being directed to the suspect position by the gunner.

‘They know that when they hear our stalling blades, the prey is in sight and the “daka-daka” will soon be talking,’ explained Nellis.

‘Daka-daka’ was the insurgent term for a machine gun, which is very similar to the Swahili, ‘taka-taka-bom-bom’.

‘Zulu Sierra … this is gunship … We have a terr visual and are firing’.

The ground troops would observe distance and ground cover and usually send their Casspirs into the chase immediately afterwards. According to Nellis, chopper operations with Koevoet teams usually meant that the flying was pretty demanding. Pilots had to concentrate continually on maintaining aircraft separation, make sure that the trackers were not walking into an ambush or that they, themselves, were not flying into something precarious. It was not unknown for SWAPO foray teams to be issued with SAM-7s. In addition, they had to try to project to ground forces the direction in which the escaping insurgents might be heading.

The early 1980s saw a dramatic development in operations, both along the southern Angolan border with South-West Africa and within Angola itself, where Pretoria’s military forces were almost permanently at war.

Because the South Africans remained aggressive throughout much of the region, with air strikes called out for anything suspicious that moved, the insurgents were forced to revert to moving about at night rather than during daylight hours. SWAPO’s logistics problems were manifest because they got little help from the Angolan Army. Consequently, their favoured means of transportation were pick-up trucks, bicycles and donkeys. Occasionally, they would revert to having oxen pull wagons across the sandy terrain.

Although a curfew was enforced, South African security forces found it impossible to cover an area half the size of the United Kingdom and for much of the time they were unable to curtail guerrilla night movements. Consequently, in 1982, a decision was made by operational headquarters at Oshakati to determine the efficacy of using Alouette gunships in a bid to counter movements by civilians as well as SWAPO insurgents who might be breaking the curfew. Other targets were enemy concentrations picked up by security force spotter groups or observation posts.

There were limitations, of course, the most significant being the paucity of night flying instrumentation fitted to Alouette III helicopters. There was no night vision equipment at this stage of the war (though obviously, there should have been). As a result, the pilots had to fly unaided, with the naked eye. A second problem was actually identifying the curfew breakers. Much of Ovamboland was populated by civilians and movement between villages and kraals after dark was as traditional as drinking beer. To intercept and indiscriminately kill curfew breakers would do nothing to help the ongoing Combined Operations ‘Hearts and Minds’ programme and, anyway, it was unethical. A third problem was the positioning of troops on the ground to arrest curfew breakers and, if necessary, give medical aid to any person who was injured or wounded during operations.

The first issue was overcome by restricting operations to nights where there was sufficient moonlight for the pilots to have a visible horizon. There was no question that moving an aircraft about in total darkness at in ordinately low levels—as was customary to avoid SAMs and anti-aircraft fire—was demanding, especially if the pilot was flying without a horizon. Disorientation could easily occur, and often did, with disastrous results.

To increase safety, only pilots with a minimum of 400 hours on Alouette III helicopters, 40 hours night flying experience (of which 15 hours had to be on that type) and a healthy amount of experience in bush operations were considered. Flight engineer/gunners had to have a weapons delivery assessment of high average for gunnery work and not wear corrective lenses.

Preliminary tests showed that it was no problem to visually acquire vehicles travelling at night. However, as soon as the drivers or their passengers were made aware of choppers approaching, they would switch off their engine and stop. Ideally, the pilots should have had heat-sensing infrared detectors, but they didn’t. Unfortunately, the Alouette could be heard from some distance and a blacked-out vehicle was almost impossible to find in the bush. To counter the problem, South African arms manufacturer Eloptro supplied locally manufactured sets of NVGs which were issued to flyers deployed on the border. This gave the aviators the advantage of visually acquiring and identifying their targets and within weeks of receiving them, they were creating havoc among the enemy.

To improve accuracy even more, a laser designator was mounted onto the helicopter’s 20mm cannon. The gunner was able to see the beam through the NVGs and could also help to mark the target for a second aircraft in the formation. The custom throughout this war was for helicopters always to move about in pairs. This provided mutual support during contacts and assistance if a helicopter was downed. Because the threat of SAMs was a given, the helicopters would always fly without navigation lights. However, this presented the problem of possible mid-air collisions, so a rear tail light was allowed. All other illuminations were masked off.

Initially, to overcome the problem of deploying troops on the ground at night, Puma helicopters were considered. However, it was considered too dangerous to bring a large chopper onto a dusty landing zone at night, especially without lights. Even in daytime ‘brown-outs’ were a common feature in some areas and then, again, lights on any aircraft made it an easy target for insurgent groups lurking nearby. The problem was solved by positioning a vehicle reaction force at various points in the area of operations. They, in turn, would be in radio communication with the helicopters. Helicopter night operations using Alouette III helicopters eventually became so commonplace that they were dubbed ‘Lunar Ops’. To stress to the locals that the curfew would to be more strictly enforced, a campaign was carried out by Combined Operations (COMOPS) where pamphlets were dropped from aircraft and warnings were broadcast on local commercial radio. Inhabitants were warned that if a helicopter circled their position, they were to stop and await the arrival of the ground troops.

Prior to night operations taking full effect, it was clear that the deployment of a land-bound reaction force was proving to be too time consuming and not as effective as required by base commanders. The reaction time was sometimes up to 20 minutes and by the time troops reached a suspicious area, the birds would have flown and all they would find was an abandoned vehicle. Another problem was that the helicopters could not orbit the area indefinitely. Because of fuel considerations, time aloft was limited, leaving the curfew-breakers unguarded.

Since ferrying troops in by helicopter at night was considered too dangerous, the next step in the evolution of ‘Lunar Ops’ was to drop squads of paratroopers from a DC-3 Dakota. ‘Gooney Birds’, as they were known to the Americans, although antiquated even then, were able to take up two sticks of ten paratroopers each. After take-off, the aircraft would orbit in a pre-arranged holding area and wait for the mission leader to call the drop. The lead helicopter always had the Parabat commander on board. He wore NVGs and his job was to control his troops on the ground after they had landed.

If the gunships were called out at night to engage an insurgent group, or to drop their airborne load, the pilots followed set procedures. The lead helicopter marked the target by dropping three lumi-sticks (luminous chemical light sticks) approximately 200 metres apart. The second helicopter would climb to an appropriate height and make radio contact with the Dakota, passing on the heading and distance to the drop. Concurrently, the mission leader and the army commander settled on a suitable drop zone. Three minutes out, the pilot would give a radio call and switch on his navigation lights, which was when the lead helicopter marked the DZ, usually with an ‘instant light’ hand grenade that burnt with an intense white light for approximately 45 seconds.

The army officer in charge in the lead gunship would then instruct the paratroopers to jump by calling out the requisite ‘one minute’, ‘ten seconds’ and finally ‘green light’, the order to go, which was when the ‘Bats would jump into the night sky. To ensure that all ten paratroopers in the stick had exited the aircraft and would be visual to the lead helicopter, the first, fifth and tenth paratroopers had ‘lumi-sticks’ attached to their backs. Once these men had landed and established radio communications with the lead helicopter, they would form up into a sweep-line and advance to target. The ‘lumi-sticks’ attached to the backs of the three men were also used by the reaction force commander to control his troops while they moved forward.

Though ‘Lunar Ops’ in the South-West African Operational Area resulted in very few clashes with the enemy, the fact that they took place at all ultimately had the effect of curtailing SWAPO movements during the dark hours.

By all accounts, the inability of Puma helicopters to carry out night trooping during the war was a limiting factor for helicopter night operations. During the initial stages of conflict, Pumas were primarily tasked with the deployment of Special Forces behind enemy lines, sometimes hundreds of kilometres in. They would take off late in the afternoon, the idea being to deploy reconnaissance teams at last light, and the return flight would be in the dark. The reason for last-light deployment was to give the troops on the ground time to put as much distance as possible between the LZ and local inhabitants who might have observed the insertion as any nearby guerrilla groups could be informed quickly by runner. Also, there were few pilots willing to take their choppers into an LZ that had not already been cleared of insurgents by ground forces.

As the War developed, 19 Squadron, a Puma squadron based at Air Force Base Swartkops in Pretoria, was given the task of developing a strategic night flying capability in an extremely primitive African environment. A special night flying flight, called `Alpha Flight’ was initiated and, with intensive training, was to become an extremely successful unit. It wasn’t long before the air force could claim that its Puma helicopters were capable of carrying out operations in the dark in almost all weather conditions.

Nellis had been involved in some of this work himself, planning for night operations which involved intensive map preparation since navigation in remote regions, such as those adjacent to Angola, could be difficult at night. He explained that all aviators are aware that the hazards associated with normal day-time flying, such as telephone and high-tension wires, are difficult, and often impossible, to distinguish at night. Night flying, even in remote topography, required up-to-date intelligence, terrain details and information about enemy and friendly force deployments.

Maps had to be clearly marked with the track to be flown, direction, headings and all hazards that might be encountered along the way. Two types of maps were used: the 1:250 000 scale chart for route planning and navigation, and the 1:50 000 scale chart for navigation in the objective area (within five to eight nautical miles of the target).

Because pilots preferred to ‘hug the ground’ while moving in unfamiliar areas, selecting the route had to be tactically sound and support accurate navigation. Certain factors had to be taken into account, including avoiding brightly lit areas, population concentrations and almost all roads, as even in the middle of the night vehicles could not miss the roar of a passing helicopter and this information could be passed on. While negotiating north–south valleys, it was essential to keep the machine on the lit side with regard to the position of the moon. This would silhouette most terrain features for navigation and avoid shadows.

As Neall Ellis always told the younger pilots, they should make a point of avoiding routes that headed directly towards a low-rising or setting moon. To which he would add: ‘when selecting checkpoints for navigation along the route, we tended to choose easily identifiable natural or manmade features that could be visually acquired from a distance.’

All this experience eventually paid dividends. During Operations Modular, Hooper and Packer in 1987–1988, Puma helicopters were the only aircraft able to fly after dark in southern Angola in all weather conditions. Puma aircrews, often as a matter of great urgency, were required to haul essential supplies, personnel and, more often than not, ammunition to forward elements. The wounded would be taken back to the rear on return flights. The pilots would take off from Rundu airfield in northern South-West Africa at last light and plan to cross back into South-West Africa at first light. Aircrews would consequently fly up to eight hours at a stretch and conditions could be both hazardous and demanding.

To avoid acquisition by enemy radar, the maximum height allowed above ground level was 200–300ft. Moreover, the aviators flew without night vision and sophisticated navigation equipment. The objectives were almost always tiny clearings in the bush, usually marked with no more than a few dozen coke tins that had been cut in half and filled with a combination of sand and paraffin—this mixture would burn with a small flame and mark the LZ.

At times, particularly during the summer months, there would be extreme weather in the region in which the Pumas were active. Tropical thunderstorms in Central Africa are not only intimidating, but can also be breathtakingly dangerous, especially during lightning strikes which sometimes go on for hours. Heavy rain would often restrict forward visibility through the cockpit Perspex, making the task of searching for a tiny LZ in that blackened quagmire even more difficult. Fortunately, these storms did keep enemy MiG fighters on the ground and friendly reception groups, usually UNITA troops, were able to send up flares as additional beacons, without fear of being rocketed or strafed.

One of the most consistent problems facing aircrews was the South Angolan bush, particularly some of the forests that stretched from one horizon to the other. It is a spectacularly beautiful and isolated region, almost all of it untouched by any kind of modern development. Indeed, it is so far from any sizeable towns or proper roads that it remains isolated, decades after the war has ended. As Nellis declares:

Once you moved into the interior, the kind of trees you were likely to have below could easily average 10 metres in height and become fairly dense further north, near Cuito Cuanavale, where most of our forward elements operated. Also, the terrain wasn’t as uniformly flat as it is further towards the arid south. Instead, it slowly became more undulating.

On a dark night, the pilots would be unable to see the ground, and would monitor their radio altimeter needles oscillating wildly up and down. This indicated that the jungle was sometimes less than 10 or 15 metres below them. Under those conditions, clearly, emergency landings were not a consideration.

Once, during a dark moon phase, a couple of Pumas were tasked to drop off a reconnaissance team at a point well behind enemy lines: an operation that was required to take place after midnight. The pilots were briefed to use their landing lights only in an emergency during the approach to landing and, of course, in the touch-down itself.