21 Brigade became more and more weakened by the constant South African artillery bombardments, and there came a time when Ferreira concluded its anti-aircraft defences had been sufficiently destroyed to risk the first SAAF bombing raid against that brigade.
On 25 September the Mirage F-1AZ ground crews at Grootfontein were told to ready the aircraft for a series of major raids the following day. Loaders prepared 450 kg cluster bombs which eject 40 spherical bomblets that bounce on impact up to six metres and then detonate, hurling metal fragments groundwards. They also loaded 250 kg high explosive fragmentation bombs.
Captain Reg van Eeden was keen to get the straps over his shoulders again, though life at Grootfontein between missions was very acceptable:
‘We spent a lot of time on the golf course, which had no grass on the fairways. And we used to eat often at a little restaurant called Dan Louis’s which served the most tender garlic calamari. There was splendid draught beer at one hotel where we also played a bit of pool.’
The first Mirage wave went in against 21 Brigade at first light on Saturday 26 September. The Mirages ‘tossed’ their 450 kg and 250 kg bombs, and as soon as they cleared the area the G-5s opened up with a 15-minute barrage. The pattern was repeated another three times that morning, and, as usual, the pilots had been briefed on the positions of SADF forces so that they could overfly them at ground-hugging level on their way back home.
‘The idea was to lift the ground forces’ morale,’ said Van Eeden. ‘Although we knew where the troops were, they were impossible to see. The camouflage was fantastic. I used to make a distinct point of trying to pinpoint our guys on the ground, and only once did I see someone waving from a vehicle which was not properly camouflaged.’
Van Eeden ‘tossed’ all his bombs successfully that day, but as he began his pitch-upwards after one bombing run he saw three Sam-7 anti-aircraft missiles streaking up from the ground towards the Mirage formation, which broke up to clear the ‘cone of vulnerability’.
Applying the ‘low level is survivability’ dictum, Van Eeden came out of his pitch as early as possible and entered a vertical dive back to ground level.
‘But I overdid it. I left it longer than usual to pull out of the dive, and I was sure that I’d left it too late. I thought this life was over. There comes a moment in that kind of situation when you’ve done everything possible with the machine to get it to level up, and from then onwards you can only pray. I was diving down right into the Cunzumbia River pulling the stick back until it was almost wrenched free. I began to feel the Mirage level out, but I was still sure it was too late. And then the next thing I knew I was flashing along above the Cunzumbia at about ten metres and 540 knots.
‘I began shaking and trembling, and after I landed I didn’t want to talk to anyone or join in any of the traditional chaffing that goes on. I was sitting in the mess avoiding the others, thinking about so many things. Then one of my friends, Major Ed Every, started chaffing me very heavily and wouldn’t let up. It was something I really didn’t need at that moment. Finally, I told him to shut his fucking mouth and I walked out of the mess. My squadron leader carpeted me and ordered me to apologise to Ed, but I told him I couldn’t and I never did.’
★ ★ ★
Piet van Zyl had watched the Mirages going in and the G-5 bombardments coming over his head from his company’s position on the south bank of the Lomba. ‘Otherwise, it was a quiet day for us,’ said Van Zyl. ‘We were just sitting under our camouflage looking through binoculars at 21 Brigade troopies less than five kilometres away walking through the treeline across the river. In the afternoon I tuned in one of the Casspir radios to the Currie Cup Final [between the Transvaal and Northern Transvaal rugby union teams]: no South African wanted to fight that day because everyone wanted to listen to the rugby. The last wave of Mirages came in just after 4.30 in the afternoon, and they were followed by a 15-minute G-5 and MRL bombardment. The enemy artillery responded and then everything fell quiet just in time for us to hear the final minutes of the rugby.’
The Mirage attacks of 26 September were among the most decisive SAAF actions of the war. Seven Soviet military advisers attached to the command HQ of 21 Brigade were wounded in the attacks. Back in Cuito Cuanavale senior Soviet officers ordered MI-24 Hind helicopter gunships to go in and bring out the Soviet wounded and about 30 other Soviet military men attached to the commands of 59 and 21 Brigades. SADF EW teams picked up the information that the helicopters were coming to evacuate the Soviets. Pierre Franken, back from his mission north of the Lomba, identified two shonas where he thought the choppers might land. When two helicopters were heard clattering in on the afternoon of 27 September, Franken ordered the G-5s, 120 mm mortars, and MRLs to prepare to put down heavy barrages on the co-ordinates of the two open spaces. As the helicopters landed at 21 Brigade, the SADF artillery pounded the landing zones, and Piet Fourie, still pretending to be a thorn bush within a short distance of the enemy, reported back that one of the MI-24s had been hit and destroyed in a huge blast. Fapla HQ at Cuito Cuanavale ordered 21 Brigade to pull back, and on the night of Sunday 27 September the brigade, now down to about one-third of its original strength, retreated several kilometres to the northwest.
The SADF had won the first stage of the War for Africa.