Dingo Firestorm by Ian Pringle

Author:Ian Pringle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dingo Firestorm
ISBN: 9781770224292
Publisher: Penguin Random House South Africa
Published: 2012-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

Thornhill

Squadron Leader Rich Brand flew back to his Midlands base at Thornhill, deep in thought. In the morning, the responsibility fell on him to fire the first shots and start the battle at exactly 07:45, not a few seconds early or late, but on the button and on target.

It was an enormous responsibility. Not only that, but everyone was expecting him to shoot Mugabe and his generals while they reviewed the parade from the porch of the HQ building. But Brand felt calm. He knew he could fire accurately; he also knew that the more planning he did, the easier it would be on the day for him and his men.

By the time Brand was back in his office at Thornhill Air Force Base, he had already worked out the bones of his plan. Now, with maps, a pencil, protractor, ruler and calculator, he quickly worked out the finer detail. He would brief his Hunter section at 17:00 in the pilots’ briefing room, where the ground-crew chief and the meteorology man joined them. Each pilot had his own gridded photos of the target. Brand reminded them of the objective:

Gents, our mission is to attack targets, neutralise anti-aircraft sites and provide top cover. We will open the battle with Red Section hitting three prime targets at 07:45:00 local time, here, here and here. At 07:45:30, as the Cans come through, White and Blue Sections will hit these four anti-aircraft pits. Thereafter, we will form a cab rank and attack targets, as directed by Delta Zero, ‘Boss’ Walsh’s callsign in the command helicopter. I will lead Red Section, Vic Wightman will lead White and John Blythe-Wood will lead Blue.

Brand outlined the route, timings, contingencies and other details. ‘Gents, the mess will be open for breakfast from 05:45; we will have a recap briefing here at 06:30. Any questions?’

Back at New Sarum, Dave Jenkins and his fellow technicians had checked and serviced their aircraft; now it was time for a few beers. ‘The corporals’ mess was designated an all-ranks mess for that night. I think most of us had a few chibulies [beers], but without getting too pissed, after which we made our way back to the hangar, where we dossed down on our stretchers,’ Jenkins recounted.

A silence settled over the base. It was a balmy late-November night in Salisbury. After seven months of the dry season, the atmosphere hung heavy with the expectation of rain. Soon, the Indian Ocean monsoon would blow moist air across Mozambique. As the air collided with the solid wall of the Rhodesian Highlands, it would be forced upward, cooling rapidly and forming mountains of white cumulus cloud.

As the moist air spread across Rhodesia, massive late-afternoon thunderstorms were caused by heat rising from the ground. You could almost set your watch by the regular afternoon thunderstorms in Salisbury. At about half past four, just as people were preparing to knock off from work, the ferocity of a storm would be unleashed with surprising regularity.

There is something very special about the first storm after the dry season.

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