CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE WAR GATHERS MOMENTUM

The small town of Daru in the east of Sierra Leone had become quite notable as a strong government ‘hold-out enclave’ against rebel advances and Nellis and his crew, once again flying from Cockerill, were supplying the Nigerian Army there twice a week by air. Colonel Kholbe and his people insisted that the Air Wing stick to a strict routine. They left at the same time each Wednesday and Saturday and returned before dark.

For obvious reasons, I insisted on varying this. The rebels had become familiar with our routine and they would be waiting for us. If they were expecting us, when we’d get overhead they would let go with everything they had in their armoury in the hope of bringing us down.

The Nigerians thought otherwise. They insisted that they were paying Nellis and his crew enough to accept their orders. As he was flying an average of ten hours a day at $2,000 an hour, Nellis couldn’t really argue. This meant that he had to stick to the routine.

One thing that Nellis was well aware of was that fighting in remote regions sometimes made for strange bedfellows. Just then, getting in and out of Daru was no exception.

There would sometimes be a journalist or two asking for a ride to the front, and although I would have liked to help—usually in the interests of creating what I reckoned was ‘a more realistic image of what we’re doing’—it often wasn’t possible. Other times we would need to use what help was available, particularly in the early days, and curiously, there was always some willing hand hanging around the base who hoped that he could get involved with us.

One of those who came along was George Yazid, a gangling, confidant young man with long-boned walker’s shanks. Although born in Sierra Leone, he had grown up with one foot in Ireland and the other in Africa. Jesuit-educated in Canada and trained in electronics, he was a useful addition to the crew, especially when some of the pernickety things that could go wrong with a helicopter, did.

As Nellis tells it, Yazid apparently had something of a military background, but what he and the boys were doing was all new to him. ‘Anyway, as he told us all one night at Paddy’s, he thought he could learn something if he could attach himself to us.’

Yazid had mentioned to Nellis that if he were stuck for help then he’d fly with him. As it happened, round about that time Nellis was suddenly seriously short-handed. After recovering from his last bout of malaria, Juba had gone off to Europe, ostensibly to buy another helicopter, so Nellis was flying the Mi-17 on his own.