44 South African Parachute Brigade (The Parabats), 1981–82
In January 1981 I resigned from the British Army, handed over my military quarters in Aldershot and set off for the Republic of South Africa. My family had returned to New Zealand while I set up in South Africa.
I was originally recruited to assist the South African Special Forces in the development of their counterterrorism capability. I was, therefore, somewhat surprised to receive a posting order to 1 Para in Tempe, the depot of the South African Defence Force (SADF) parachute forces, in Bloemfontein. This posting was then changed to the headquarters of 44 Parachute Brigade which is where I finally arrived. Some months after being in the SADF I had an interview with General F.W. Loots, the commander of South African Special Forces. At our meeting I queried why I was not posted to the Special Forces as had been originally planned. I reminded him that I had top-secret security clearance in the SADF. He paused and said, ‘Ah – but there is many a slip between the cup and the lip.’ He made it quite clear that he thought I was a British spy.
Most of the permanent force in the SADF spoke Afrikaans as their first language, although they were all bilingual in English too. At this time all official documents had to be in both Afrikaans and English. This included military pamphlets and handbooks. Military correspondence, however, alternated monthly between Afrikaans and English. Inevitably, what happened was that Afrikaans speakers, in the English month, dated everything as of the last day of the Afrikaans month, and vice versa. So, everyone simply continued to write correspondence in their own primary language.
I learned basic Afrikaans before travelling to South Africa but luckily my limitations in the language were not a problem in the brigade headquarters as English was the main language used.
Soon after arriving at my brigade headquarters I met my new commanding officer, the legendary Colonel Jan Breytenbach. He welcomed me warmly and showed me around the ‘farm’ at Murrayhill, Hammanskraal, some 30 miles north of Pretoria. The farm, which was literally just that, was a minimalist environment, but the farm, outhouses and store rooms were filled with stores, ammunition and soft-skin vehicles.
There was some accommodation in a small building and this was occupied by the 44 Parachute Brigade Headquarters Pathfinder Company. This unique little band of men was composed mainly of foreign nationals most of whom had served in the Rhodesian forces prior to joining the SADF. Alongside the Rhodesians, there were Americans, including several Vietnam veterans, Brits, Australians and a Kiwi and later, if I recall correctly, the company was also joined by Frenchmen and a Spaniard. I was the new officer commanding the Pathfinders Company, as well as the brigade’s second-in-command and almost everything else in between.
It was a colourful mob, to be sure, and made no less so by the mutual animosity between two sergeant majors of the unit. One was Pete McAleese, and the other was Frank Green. McAleese had come from the British SAS as well as the Rhodesian SAS, and was, naturally, a formidable character. Green was a one-legged Rhodesian, a former racing driver, whose speciality was designing Q vehicles. These were civilian vehicles, but concealed machine guns and other weapons. McAleese and Green did not get on. At one stage, in the middle of the bush when the unit was travelling overland from Pretoria to deploy to South West Africa, Green and McAleese had a stand-up brawl in front of the rather bemused troops.
A British couple, Clive and Alyson Lea-Cox, who had joined the SADF before me kindly offered to let me board with them until I could find suitable accommodation and so I was able to move out of the hotel in Pretoria that I had been staying in – there was no military accommodation. Clive had been the CO of a county regiment and Alyson had been a Women’s Royal Army Corps (WRAC) officer and they had met while serving in Northern Ireland. After several months, my family was able to join me but trying to get accommodation continued to be a problem. The SADF, like some other armies, allocated points based on an officer’s length of service and these points go towards housing allocation. But, in my case, because my previous service was not in the SADF I was not allocated any points and so would never be eligible for military housing. At one stage for a short while we lived in a small rondavel (thatched hut) on the Para Brigade farm at Hammanskraal with no electricity and minimal facilities. My two children remember it mostly because of the enormous spiders which also occupied the rondavel and came out at night to forage by the light of the candles.
I was eventually able to rent a small duplex apartment on the outskirts of Pretoria and it was a relief to have a firm base for the family. I could now concentrate on the job in hand.
Firstly, I needed to familiarise myself with South African kit and equipment. Soon after I arrived Colonel Breytenbach took me to visit the DSIR (Department for Scientific and Industrial Research) workshops in Pretoria which were assisting in the development of the Pathfinder specialist vehicles – the Jackals. He introduced me to the imposing SADF Ratel (honey badger) armoured vehicle. He showed me around the vehicle and finally, with a mischievous smile, pointed to a large rusty grille that was bolted to the rear left-hand side of the vehicle, and said, ‘What do you think that is?’ When I looked completely puzzled he laughed loudly and said, ‘That’s the braai! [BBQ] You could only get that in the SADF!’
The Armaments Corporation of South Africa, or Armscor, worked closely with the Department for Scientific and Industrial Research. Essentially the military would define a requirement and Armscor would examine it and farm the project out to the company or companies with the necessary expertise, giving assistance as required. A prototype would be developed and handed to military personnel who tested it and reported their findings. Modifications were made as necessary and if a further test did not indicate more modifications Armscor allocated the manufacture. The development of SADF equipment was probably the most rapid in the world – a piece of equipment could be tested and conclusions given in a matter of days rather than months and years as in most other countries.
The Pathfinder Company’s main requirement at this time was for a light, air-portable, air-droppable, cross-country vehicle which could carry sufficient logistic support for a four-man crew and have fire support powerful enough to allow vehicles to operate behind enemy lines in Angola, and on internal operations in South West Africa, as South Africa’s Border War was now at its height. The terrain that the Pathfinders would be operating in was very sandy and flat with areas of riverbeds or shonas cutting through the area. These shonas fill with about 18 inches of water in the wet season. Throughout the area were clumps of the distinctive flat-topped mopane trees with their savage thorns, home to tiny black flies that feast on the liquid in one’s eyes and mouth. The mopane copses were surrounded by barriers of thick thorny scrub. Where the mopane trees were cut down there was left a razor-sharp stump, which could rip the tyre off a vehicle.
The DSIR had taken the lead in designing the esoteric vehicles needed for South Africa’s Border War, known more colloquially as the Bush War. The Buffel (buffel meaning buffalo), armoured personnel carrier, which was a masterpiece of the art of mine-proofing vehicles, and the Ratel infantry combat vehicle were both designed in the workshops of the DSIR. Frank Green had previously been involved in the design and operation of Q vehicles in Rhodesia with Special Forces Headquarters. Although he had lost a leg in a motor racing accident, Frank was a great machine gunner on the battlefield and became a dynamic and enthusiastic member of the design team for the Jackal.
The Jackal was based upon the British ¾-ton Land Rover and also on Toyota Land Cruisers. Eight vehicles were received; they were stripped down and the mechanics thoroughly checked. All the panel work was removed and the chassis strengthened by welding and bolting alloy bars under the seats in the front. Duplicate fuel tanks were placed behind the existing tanks and all tanks were filled with multi-mesh aluminium to stop the fuel exploding in the event of a strike by an incendiary round. The next step was the placing of a mesh grille over the engine compartment to protect it; after initial trials, this grille had to have a canvas screen placed underneath to stop grass seed from the veldt (open, rural landscape of southern Africa) clogging the engine air intakes. A solid tray of ¾-inch steel was fixed over the rear axle; this was to be the gun platform. Various trays could be fitted on to the platform dependent upon the weapon required, including 106mm recoilless rifles; a .50-calibre machine gun or twin 7.62 MAGS – the Belgium machine gun.
There were no doors or windscreens, but a grille was provided to protect the driver and the commander in the front from the savage thorny vegetation found in the operational area. Boxes for radios were situated between the driver and the commander. There were three radios per vehicle: one radio for inter-vehicle communications; one to speak to foot patrols; and the frequency-hopping set for the link to the tactical headquarters. Storage bins were placed to the rear of the driver and commander. On the rear and sides, jerry cans with fuel were clamped on the racks. These cans were connected to a quick release device. If the cans were ignited, the number two gunner pulled and pushed the lever and the cans fell away. There was another extra that was unique. This was the smoke dispenser based on the Soviet method for producing smoke from armoured vehicles. A small container of brake fluid was placed over the exhaust manifold and this container had a valve connected to a tap on the dashboard. When the tap was opened, the fluid would drip onto the manifold and clouds of dense white smoke would issue from the exhaust pipe. The system gave each vehicle the ability to lay down a screen for the quick and effective protection of itself or to cover the manoeuvre of others.
The weapons affixed to the vehicles depended upon the role that vehicle would be required to carry out on operations and the type of enemy likely to be encountered. To engage enemy infantry, the Belgian 7.62 mm MAG was the tried and tested favourite. A twin MAG was mounted on a pedestal behind a metal shrapnel shield. Each MAG had a 500-round box welded to the side of the pedestal and empty cases, or doppies, were collected in a sack beneath each gun. This was to stop them rolling around on the floor causing gunners to lose their footing. Other vehicles were armed with a .50-calibre Browning for anti-vehicle work using mixed belts of armour-piercing, armour-piercing incendiary, and ball ammunition. One vehicle even had twin .50-calibre Brownings mounted but accuracy suffered as the platform did not remain stable when the weapons were fired. Another experiment involved mounting a 20mm cannon ‘liberated’ from a South African Air Force (SAAF) Canberra bomber. The cannon had excellent range and penetration but there were problems with the cooling and recoil system as it was, obviously, designed for use on an aircraft.
The vehicles were required to carry a team of four as the Pathfinders were organised into patrols of four men as in the British SAS: a driver responsible for the mobility of the vehicle; a commander who had a pintle-mounted MAG in front of him, responsible for navigation and tactical deployment; a number one gunner responsible for the primary weapon; and a number two gunner whose task was to protect the gunner and take over in the event that the number one gunner became a casualty.
Vast amounts of stores had to be carried as patrols could be operating a long way from base. Apart from the rations and water for 14 days there were the business items. The SADF personal equipment was very good. The personal weapon was the 5.56mm R4 based on the Israeli Galil. The Para helmet was a direct copy of the Israeli version with a nutria-brown helmet cover with a peak – I had never worn a helmet with a peak before! Webbing was chest-mounted with some six magazine pouches. Personal weapons for the crew included the 5.56mm R4 and the Spanish 9mm Star automatic handguns (called the bush hammer because that was all they were good for!); M79 grenade launchers; RPG-7s; STRIM rocket launchers similar to the US 3.5 rocket launcher; and, of course, large amounts of ammunition. Specialist items included explosive and mines. It was particularly satisfying laying captured Soviet mines – this appealed to our rather strange sense of humour.
Also carried were flares, extra radio batteries and two spare vehicle tyres. All the tyres were filled with foam that kept the tyres inflated even when punctured by several rounds of AK-47 fire. Unfortunately, the foam was no match for the mopane stumps as we found out later. There was no mine protection on the vehicles because of weight restrictions and the only insurance against setting off a mine was sticking to operational procedures about avoiding tracks and roads, combined with the keen eyesight of the crew and the skill of the driver. This was not always successful!
After a four-month preparation, in early March 1981 the Jackals were ready to move to South West Africa. The move from the Pathfinder base in Pretoria to the operational area in South West Africa took seven days. This drive took the ‘pack’ of Jackals through the Republic of South Africa’s then provinces of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, and along the southern edge of Botswana and the Kalahari Desert. In the latter, the column was pounded by hailstones as big as golf balls. The column then proceeded through the eastern side of South West Africa to the SADF base at Grootfontein and then along the ‘blacktop’, the only sealed road in the north of South West Africa (Owamboland) to the final destination of Ondangwa, a large airbase in South West Africa, and the operational base for the Pathfinders. The base fell within Sector 10, one of three front-line ‘sectors’ of South West Africa directly controlled by the SADF. The Jackals had been thoroughly tested mechanically on this arduous journey and, except for a few minor problems, all were running well. One vehicle, however, had broken its back crossing a riverbed; this was welded together and, apart from a rather strange U-shaped profile, it was as good as new. Pathfinder operations were carried out from the Para Battalion base at Ondangwa which was a major airbase in South West Africa. The area military and civil administration was based in nearby Oshakati. The accommodation was very spartan and there were very few luxuries. We lived in large canvas tents with metal beds on the sand. The majority of manpower in South West Africa was provided by white national servicemen commanded by permanent force officers and senior NCOs. I noticed that the national servicemen were not treated particularly well by their permanent force counterparts.
My first task at 44 Brigade had been to formalise the selection and training of the Pathfinders. The training, up until that stage, had been organised by Sergeant Major Pete McAleese. It had been carried out enthusiastically and vigorously but needed some structure. I also undertook to write the formal Standard Operational Procedures (SOP) for the Pathfinder Company.
The current Pathfinders had a certain amount of combat experience, but their attitude to discipline, both on the field operations and in base, left a bit to be desired. This did not endear them to the more formal SADF. There was an animosity towards the Pathfinders in almost every area that we worked. We were very much regarded as Colonel Breytenbach’s private army.
Colonel Breytenbach himself liked to lead from the front. He enjoyed going on operations with the soldiers in the Para Brigade and in particular with the Pathfinders in their Jackal vehicles into South West Africa and across the border into Angola. On one Pathfinder patrol he was very nearly killed when his Jackal vehicle ran over an anti-tank mine. The vehicle with its numerous fuel cans exploded in a ball of fire. He personally saved the machine gunner on the rear of the vehicle, Dave Barr, from the flames. All the occupants of the vehicle were injured, with Dave Barr losing both his legs, but no one was killed. You cannot get much closer to the action than that! I had found a commanding officer I would happily follow to war.
On Operations with the Pathfinders
The majority of Pathfinder operations I was involved in took place above the ‘cut line’ in Angola. The Bush War had first flared up due to the Namibian people’s opposition to South Africa’s mandate over South West Africa (modern-day Namibia). The opposition was provided by the People’s Liberation Army of Namibia (PLAN), the armed wing of the South West Africa People’s Organisation (SWAPO), although we generally referred to them simply as SWAPO rather than making the distinction. The conflict intensified when Angola, to the north of South West Africa, won its independence from Portugal in 1975. The left-wing Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA), with assistance from the Soviet Union and Cuba, came to power and immediately began offering support, in terms of physical bases inside Angola, to SWAPO. It was these bases that became a primary target for the SADF.
The border between Angola and South West Africa is first formed by the Kunene River which runs from its mouth in the Atlantic Ocean for just over 185 miles to the small border town of Ruacana. From there the border is formed by a dead-straight ‘cut line’, marked by a rusty fence and frequent large, triangular, numbered wooden trig points, which runs for 265 miles. It was in the area north of this that we would operate on ‘external’ operations, i.e. outside South West Africa and into Angolan territory.
We frequently worked on such operations with 32 ‘Buffalo’ Battalion. This was a unit composed predominately of Portuguese-speaking black Angolans who had been recruited by Jan Breytenbach at the end of the Angolan War of Independence. As MPLA had secured power in the newly independent Angola, and was committed to a one-party state, some Angolans as well as other Angolan political parties looked for non-Soviet external assistance. The South African government would primarily support the National Union for the Total Independence of Angola (UNITA). This meant that Angola rapidly developed into a vicious Cold War-era proxy war.
Some of the 32 Battalion NCOs and all the officers were permanent force members of the SADF. This unit was extremely aggressive and was probably one of the most effective units during the South African Bush War.
Like a lot of battle zones there was a great deal of wildlife. Not surprisingly there were few poachers and we would often come across elephant or herds of springbok or kudu and any waterholes were full of crocodiles (called ‘flat dogs’ by the South Africans) and hippos – two of the most dangerous creatures in Africa. A fellow Kiwi, Phil C, who with my assistance joined 32 Battalion, caused a great deal of concern to his colleagues when he returned to the 32 ‘Buffalo’ Battalion camp at Rundu in the Caprivi Strip having been for a ‘walkabout’ and described how he had used their ‘water slide’ at the nearby river. His horrified companions explained to him that these slides were not made by playful soldiers frolicking in the river but by bloody great crocodiles and he was very, very lucky to still be intact!
The nights in the veldt are, as I was able to compare later in the deserts of Oman, absolutely stunning. The stars just go on forever and the silence is almost tangible. It was comforting at night to be able to look up and see the familiar Southern Cross star formation. This was helpful on more than one occasion when we were returning at night to South West Africa having carried out an operation above the ‘cut line’ in Angola – we just followed the ‘Cross’.
As operations began with the Jackals, both inside and outside South West Africa, it quickly became apparent to us that the vehicles required a mother vehicle to provide reserve stores of fuel, food, water and, most importantly, ammunition. It was found that the Unimog 2.5 Mercedes was the most suitable truck available. Two of these vehicles were stripped right down, provided with a pintle-mounted MAG, extra fuel tanks and a pair of foam-filled spare tyres each. It was also decided to bolt a captured Soviet 14.5mm heavy machine gun on to the rear of another Unimog vehicle. Although designed as an anti-aircraft weapon, this machine gun was extremely efficient in the ground role with its fearsome rate of fire, and, of course, there was no shortage of captured ammunition.
The Jackals moved in pairs on operations with a twin MAG and a .50-calibre-equipped vehicle operating together. In some areas the scrub was too thick for the Jackals and one of the Unimog support vehicles would have to come forward and ‘bundu-bash’ to make a passage for the much lower Jackal vehicles. (The Southern Africans called the ‘bush’ the bundu and to bundu-bash was to drive through the bush.) A typical operation, an external, would begin with the pack moving to a forward SADF base just south of the cut line. The attack headquarters would be set up and final briefings and rehearsals take place. Just before moving out, all weapons were test fired to ensure they functioned perfectly. Deployment would take place after last light avoiding waterholes, reservoirs and civilian kraals, or villages. If the move to the task area took more than one night the vehicles would be concealed during the day and the crews would rest, except for observation posts. If, however, the operation was to search and destroy then movement was by day so that spoor (enemy tracks) could be followed. If a fresh spoor was found, the enemy’s likely destination was plotted while a pair of Jackals would move on a flank to cut off their route; the remainder of the pack would move parallel to the track and the enemy would be hunted down. We wore the brown SADF uniform in camp but in the field we dressed in camouflage clothing, either old Rhodesian camouflage or Portuguese camouflage clothing that we were issued from 32 Battalion.
The mission of one of our main raids into Angola in July 1981 was twofold: to destroy the main culvert bridge between Ongiva and Mongua on the hard-surfaced road, thereby denying access to any more supplies getting to FAPLA (Popular Front for the Liberation of Angola) and SWAPO bases; to engage and destroy any convoys coming down the road, capture any enemy equipment and recover any bodies of foreign personnel – Russians or Cubans. We were to use UNITA forces inside Angola as our guides.
The raiding force consisted of five vehicles: two Jackals with twin 7.62mm MAG machine guns for the gunner and his assistant, and one machine gun for the co-driver; one 2½-ton vehicle with a 14.5mm heavy machine gun captured from SWAPO; and two 2½-ton vehicles to carry troops and demolition equipment with one mounted 7.62 MAG. There were 12 of us from the Pathfinders and we were assisted by eight members of 1 Parachute Brigade fire force (Parabats) who were also based in Ondangwa.
As soon as all equipment and personnel were ready we began organising and rehearsing to destroy the bridge culvert and any convoy we encountered. Current intelligence reports and aerial photos were obtained to study and organise appropriate equipment to destroy the bridge. We intended to use approximately 400 pounds of explosives and supports had to be prepared to keep the explosives tight against the culvert roof. We improvised and made metal supports to hold the explosives in place against the roof of the culvert. The latest intelligence reports said convoy movements were currently between midnight and 5am because of constant SAAF attacks, rendering daylight travel for FAPLA and SWAPO impossible.
During a three-day rehearsal on the nearby Etosha Pan we practised battle formations. First in the convoy was the first Jackal vehicle; then one Unimog 2½-ton truck carrying UNITA guides and Para personnel; next was the other 2½-ton Unimog with the explosives and other equipment; then another Unimog with its 14.5mm heavy machine gun; and in the final position was another Jackal vehicle. We repeatedly practised the actions we would take once we reached the bridge. Potential mistakes were corrected, and again and again we went over the command and control elements to ensure that operation would go smoothly.
The key part of the raid was to ensure that the culvert was blown with as many enemy vehicles on it as possible – this required good communications between the various ambush groups. After three intense days and nights I felt that every man knew his job and what he was expected to do. We packed the vehicles and moved to an SADF base at just south of the border with Angola. The next day we moved to a large UNITA base camp some 18 miles inside Angola. The UNITA soldiers had their families with them and were very curious about us and our equipment. They asked many questions and were obviously puzzled as to why the majority of our group could not speak Afrikaans. There were some advisers with UNITA who had been with the Portuguese Army during the 1975 war and were now fighting for UNITA. The children of the camp crowded around our vehicles and especially the Jackals. Disturbingly some 80 per cent of the male children above ten years old carried weapons, the majority of which were the Hungarian-type AK-47s with folding butts or the Spanish-made 7.62mm CETME rifle. There were a number of captured AK-47s and AKMs and a few officers had Russian Tokorov pistols.
The next morning, I gave a final briefing and we pored over maps and aerial photographs of the target area. We still had 75 miles to travel, primarily through SWAPO/FAPLA-controlled territory, but with UNITA guides we hoped to avoid most of the enemy’s base camps. Later that night at about 10pm while travelling through the bush, a mopane tree stump ripped the fuel tank off one of the support Unimogs. As we tried to repair the vehicle by shaded torchlight noise became a serious problem. Each village seemed to have a guard system and the noise we were making had obviously alerted them to something happening. They communicated between kraals by firing shots into the air with their old Mausers. I decided we should masquerade as FAPLA soldiers by singing and turning on all the vehicle lights, making as much noise as possible. Hopefully we could bluff our way past these home guards. The ruse worked and the shots stopped! At 3am we had completed the repairs and got out of there as quickly as possible. We reached the main asphalt road deliberately north of our destination and then moved south-east to locate the bridge. I sent the two Jackals up and down the road as early warning and as stop-groups once the ambush was triggered. At the culvert we had to work fast because of the delay we had suffered. The demolitions team started unloading and setting up the demolitions assisted by the Parabats. The demolition preparation was very slick due to our many rehearsals and only took about 30 minutes. We used about 440 pounds of PE/C4 and Mike L, one of the demolition team and a former US Special Forces operator, considered it was about five times more than we needed. But what the hell – using the old demolitionists’ expression, ‘P for plenty!’ and why not. Then came the wait and by 4am it was very, very cold.
My plan was to wait until 5am to blow the bridge and move back to friendly lines. Unfortunately, no convoy came by. We blew the culvert and the tar-sealed road. KFB! It was an impressive sight and sound with dirt and concrete scattered over some 600 yards leaving a crater the size of a large bus. We placed booby-traps around the area using captured Russian landmines and mechanical claymore ambushes. We then moved directly towards friendly lines, even if it meant going through enemy-controlled areas. Occasionally, we stopped and laid more booby-traps and, at one stage, we spotted enemy troops trailing us and opened fire with the 14.5mm heavy machine gun. They quickly disappeared.
After about an hour’s driving one of the Unimogs drove into a concealed crater. The crater was almost the exact size of the truck itself! This presented the major problem of trying to extract the vehicle due to its tight fit inside the crater. While we were working out how to pull the vehicle out we heard the ominous rumblings of tracked and other armoured vehicles. We knew that FAPLA soldiers were now looking for us. We had few anti-tank weapons – only several RPG-7s – so a fight with armoured vehicles was not a good idea. I advised Sector 10 headquarters at Oshikati of our situation, but I was not very confident that support for us would be forthcoming. I particularly requested air support to deter the armoured vehicles. This was denied by Sector 10. To this day, I believe it was because we were expendable – after all we were mostly uitlanders (foreigners).
Fortunately, and maybe it was the incentive of the armoured vehicles closing in, we were finally able to literally jerk the Unimog out of the ground using a flexible tow-rope. By now the closest enemy vehicle was not much more than half a mile away and closing in on us. They had obviously worked out that we would be moving south. However, they were moving very cautiously as a result of the mines we had laid so we were able to gain some space. After a further two hours driving we re-entered UNITA-controlled territory. I gave the UNITA officers a quick brief on our task and we then re-crossed the border into South West Africa and returned to our base in Ondangwa.
The following day I briefed Sector 10 headquarters staff at Oshikati on the raid and later they were able to provide additional information about the interdiction of the main road we had caused.
There were other moments of excitement during my time with the SADF – some that I certainly had not expected. On 18 May 1981 I was in South West Africa in the base camp of the Parabats sitting in the operations room. I was doing some operational planning with Sergeant Major Dennis Croukamp. Sergeant Major Croukamp had served with the Rhodesian Light Infantry, and had been awarded one of the earliest Bronze Cross of Rhodesia gallantry awards for bravery under fire. He had then served with the Selous Scouts. He had a great operational reputation. At approximately 9pm, Sergeant Kevin O’Connor, a Rhodesian, who was one of the administration members of the Pathfinders in a quartermaster capacity, burst into the room. He fired a single shot and then a burst of three to four rounds into the wall above our heads. The operations room was a sandbagged tent with a canvas roof. I had my back to the door and stood up to face Sergeant O’Connor. He was carrying an R4 assault rifle with a 50-round magazine attached and wearing chest webbing containing a further six magazines and also a 9mm pistol with two magazines. He was in an extremely agitated state and said words to the effect that he was going to sort out Croukamp once and for all, after which he fired another burst into the wall. He then ordered Croukamp to sit opposite him and covered him with his loaded weapon with the safety catch off. It subsequently came to light that Croukamp and O’Connor had been involved in an altercation earlier in the day.
I asked O’Connor if I could go outside and let the camp know what was happening because there would have been some confusion concerning the source of the firing, which could indicate that we were undergoing a ground attack. He agreed and ordered me to ring the brigade commander and tell him he wanted the brigade commander to come and see him or he would shoot Croukamp. I went outside, briefed the senior Para officer present, gave a quick outline of the situation and organised some contingency plans in case matters deteriorated. One of the plans involved setting up a 7.62mm MAG on a tripod outside the operations room directly in line with O’Connor.
O’Connor was still very agitated and had placed Croukamp opposite the operations room door, so he could shoot him and anyone attempting to gain entry through the door. I persuaded him to put Croukamp on the far side of the room, ostensibly to protect the signaller in the adjacent room who had been fearlessly carrying on his duties with this mayhem going on outside his cubicle. The other reason that I wanted him to move was to increase the area that O’Connor would have to watch giving me further options at a later time. My main task was to calm O’Connor, so that he would become more predictable and would not be impulsive. I did this by talking to him, discussing miscellaneous subjects, and generally defusing the situation.
I then persuaded him to put on the safety of his weapon for all our security. He did so for a few minutes but because it was difficult to remove quickly he returned the safety catch to automatic. He complained of a headache, so I obtained some aspirin for him; he was very wary, but took them and also some soft drinks. I was able to slowly win his confidence and as a result was permitted to move to and from the room and therefore at intervals I could brief others outside of the situation. I frequently attempted to persuade O’Connor to release Croukamp and use me as a hostage instead. I considered that he was unlikely to injure me. However, he refused each time. I was also attempting to make him give me the R4 as a sign of his willingness to surrender when the brigade commander arrived. The R4 has a very fast rate of fire and was a source of much danger to everyone in the vicinity.
I was concerned that the generator providing the light for the camp might accidentally fail, which could make O’Connor open fire, so I convinced him to allow me to get a gas lamp. Each time I moved O’Connor always kept Croukamp covered and did not provide me with an opportunity to overpower him without danger to Croukamp.
At approximately 11.15pm O’Connor suddenly became very agitated. He had calmed down over the course of the preceding two hours, but he threatened to take Croukamp ‘off at the knees’. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, and I made greater efforts to take O’Connor’s mind off the current situation. I convinced him that the only way the brigadier would come into the room would be if I took the R4 outside first to clearly show that he had no intention of harming the brigadier. He finally agreed to this.
At approximately 11.45pm I was told that the brigadier had arrived and requested that O’Connor give me the R4 as discussed. He had already cocked his pistol and removed the safety catch from ‘safe’ during one of my earlier absences. He slowly stood up, unloaded the R4, and with the pistol in one hand pushed the R4 across the bench seat towards me. I moved to pick it up and was at last able to get close to him. I pushed him off balance with the R4 and then after a struggle overpowered him and removed the pistol from him. Although still shocked, Croukamp was able to assist me in the struggle.
There was a moment when I could have shot O’Connor with his own pistol but reinforcements had arrived and O’Connor was handcuffed and led away. Once I was sure the situation was under control I had a cup of coffee and retired to my tent.
Surprisingly, within a few days, O’Connor was sent unescorted back to his military quarters where he lived with his family to arrange his defence in his forthcoming court martial. Unsurprisingly, he fled the country instead and went to the UK. Dennis Croukamp has written a book about his military experiences and in my copy of his book he has kindly written ‘Thank you for saving my life’.
As well as commanding the Brigade Pathfinders on operation, alternating with Colonel Breytenbach I was responsible for coordinating training in South Africa for the non-permanent force members of 2 and 3 Para battalions. 1 Parachute Battalion was the Para training battalion for conscripts and was based in Tempe, near Bloemfontein. 2 and 3 Battalions were Paras who had completed their two-year compulsory military training including border operations and were now serving in the Citizen Force (CF) of fully trained but part-time reservists. This often included further operational service. I was very impressed by the way the call-up for this training was conducted. There were very few permanent force staff in the Para battalions and the annual training almost appeared ad hoc but was in fact very well organised despite the fact that there was little formal training during the year. This was a legacy of the Boer War and similar to how the Boer Commandos operated. I was also interested to note that parachute dispatching was carried out by the Paras themselves and not by SAAF personnel. Normally, in my experience, an air force jealously guards its involvement in military parachuting and army Paras are normally only ‘assistant’ parachute jump instructors. I umpired a training airborne assault with 3 Battalion into Zululand. We parachuted from a fleet of SAAF Transalls, baby Hercules. The Paras carried their R4s strapped to their sides, wearing all their webbing equipment with their versatile chest webbing for ammunition magazines and grenades. We dropped from a height of approximately 600 feet onto a thorn bush-covered DZ. Other Paras I have jumped with outside the SADF are deathly quiet on take-off and pre-occupied with their own thoughts and fears. Not the SADF Paras – they stamped their feet and clapped their hands in unison – bang, bang, bang on the floor, clapping and shouting ‘Let’s go!’ until the aircraft left the ground. That was a bit different!
I also ran training courses for ‘new’ Pathfinders before they deployed with the rest of the Pathfinder Company. One of the training courses I ran for the Pathfinders was a Resistance to Interrogation course. This involved putting Pathfinders under mild physical and mental pressure through the use of blindfolds, isolation in shallow pits surrounded by bits of meat to attract irritating flies, and silence. The soldiers were interrogated using very basic ‘good guy versus bad guy’ techniques but with no physical violence whatsoever. This was to prepare the Pathfinders for the unlikely event of capture by the enemy. They were to repeat the mantra of number, rank, name and date of birth only. I ran the course in the Caprivi Strip and we were based at the SADF Special Forces base at Fort Doppies. The Special Forces operators at Fort Doppies had a tame lion called Terry which they had reared from a cub. Terry was very friendly and would wander around the camp and the local area. During the resistance to interrogation course, one of the support staff had gone into the bush to answer the call of nature and, suddenly, came running back into the camp with his trousers around his ankles shouting in Afrikaans, ‘A fucking lion! A fucking lion!’ Trotting calmly along behind him was Terry.
A few days later I was giving a lecture; this was done in the open air sitting on the ground, when in padded Terry who proceeded to sit on the lap of a very, very startled Pathfinder. Terry listened to the lecture for a few minutes and then wandered away again. On another occasion when Terry had not been seen for a while some troops from Fort Doppies went out in a Buffel to drop off some meat for him. They eventually found a lion and one of the soldiers climbed out with the meat and carried it over. He would have made the South African Olympic track team with the speed with which he returned to the vehicle when his companion said, ‘Here’s Terry – beside the Buffel!’ Walking up to a wild lion with an armful of raw meat is certainly not a recommended activity.
Several years later as the SADF was leaving the border area it was decided to take Terry to a game reserve in the south of South Africa. A cage was duly built and a Dakota flew into the nearby bush airstrip to take Terry to his new home. Unfortunately, the new cage was too big to fit through the doors of the Dakota. Rather than cancel the flight and build a new cage the operators at the Fort simply informed the pilot that they would drug Terry and put him in the back of the plane. Apparently, the pilot’s face was a picture as he looked at Terry in his cage and said, ‘If you think I am flying my plane with a fucking great lion sleeping in the back you have to be out of your fucking heads!’ He then climbed back into his plane and left. Some weeks later Terry went south in a smaller cage and, I hope, lived happily ever after in his new home.
In mid-July 1981 I was tasked with deploying with the Brigade Pathfinders in Ondangwa to operate above the ‘cut line’ north of Ombalantu to carry out multiple foot patrols in Angola in a block patrol area 19 miles east of the Cunane River and for 19 miles north into Angola. I briefed the company on our task and we travelled in Buffel APCs along the ‘black top’ past Oshikati, the SADF sector headquarters, to Ombalantu where we turned north to a specific border marker on the ‘cut line’ marking the border between SWA Owambo Province and Angola. We left the Buffels and their escort to return to Ondangwa and patrolled in open formation north towards an old Portuguese dam that I had designated as the centre of our patrol area. We reached an area 200 yards short of the dam at about 4.30am. Despite the difficulties of night navigation for 15 miles in a featureless terrain my navigation was accurate. After resting for several hours I deployed three eight-man patrols to pre-designated areas to the west, north and east of my headquarters group. They were to carry out patrols looking for enemy signs. At 9pm on the second night the northern patrol observed a four-man SWAPO group approaching a nearby well. The patrol engaged them, killing one and dispersing the others. A sweep of the contact area was carried out the following morning but did not locate any further enemy casualties, only several blood trails. As the patrol was preparing to move to a new location, Dave Barr moved to a small bush to answer the call of nature and nearly trod on an equally surprised SWAPO soldier lying in the grass. He immediately raced back to the patrol position, alerting his comrades. The patrol position was then heavily engaged, with small arms fire, RPG 7 rockets, and 60mm mortar bombs landing near the patrol position. The patrol immediately returned fire and prepared to make a tactical withdrawal and break contact with the enemy. As soon as we heard the contact my headquarters patrol started moving north towards the contact area as did the other two patrols. I linked up with the withdrawing patrol as well as the two other patrols and, now consolidated, we swept back north to the contact area. Using fire and movement we entered the area of the contact but SWAPO had left. We observed a number of blood trails and spent AK-47 and RPD machine gun cases. We continued sweeping the area and located a recently occupied enemy temporary base camp with trenches. This was why the enemy had been able to mount an attack in such a short time. After thoroughly checking the area we moved south-west towards the border and established a firm base for further patrolling. Later SADF sigint (signals intelligence) advised us that 30–40 SWAPO had been involved in this firefight. On a lighter note, just before dawn on the morning after we had redeployed I was most surprised to hear the sound of ‘Yankee Doodle’ being played by someone’s watch. The owner had obviously forgotten to mute it. From the tune it was obviously one of our US colleagues. There were assorted chuckles from the surrounding night perimeter. If there had been any SWAPO in the area they would certainly have been as bemused as we were to hear this music in the pre-dawn silence of the veldt.
We continued patrolling without success but several days later I was recalled to Army HQ in Pretoria regarding my service contract with the SADF. I was escorted by one of the patrols back to the ‘cut line’ to rendezvous with a patrol of Buffels and returned to our base in Ondangwa. The company continued patrolling for another two weeks but without any contacts. The following day I flew from Ondangwa by C-130 to Waterkloof SAAF base in Pretoria. Sadly, this was to be my last operation with the Brigade Pathfinders, ‘The Philistines’, as I was soon to leave the SADF.
Meanwhile, from 24 August to 4 September 1981 the Pathfinders and their Jackals were heavily involved in the major SADF Operation Protea in which up to 5,000 SADF soldiers occupied Cunene Province in Southern Angola.
South Africa was not to be home to me for much longer. After just under a year in the SADF I regretfully handed in my resignation. The SADF was not prepared to fulfil the financial terms of my initial contract and so my young family and I were unable to remain. As the Pathfinders were deployed on Operation Protea at the time I was sadly unable to bid my ‘universal soldier’ comrades a proper farewell. Colonel Breytenbach himself was soon to leave the unit he had created. In the latter half of 1982 the colonel was posted out of 44 Brigade and many of the original Pathfinders decided to leave the SADF as a result. Jan Breytenbach had been responsible for setting up and establishing all of the SADF Special Forces, as well as the formidable 32 Battalion, and was an individual of immense personal courage and determination. He was not one to be bothered by military minutiae – that was the job of staff officers. He had great imagination and really understood the immense value of well-trained small groups of men carrying out strategic operations against far larger numbers. However, to a number of straight-laced Boer career officers in the SADF he was an anathema, a maverick, and those who worked with him also fell under this shadow. I am very proud to have served with him – and the Parabats.
A new future now beckoned.