Bush War Operator: Memoirs of the Rhodesian Light Infantry, Selous Scouts and beyond by Andrew Balaam

Author:Andrew Balaam [Balaam, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: HISTORY / Modern / General
ISBN: 9781910777459
Publisher: Helion and Company
Published: 2014-11-19T05:00:00+00:00

17

Chiredzi, Operation Repulse, 1978

I was operating in a Tribal Trust Land in the Chiredzi area, a terrorist stronghold. Every member of the local community was a staunch ZANLA supporter; the youngsters would patrol the roads, check the high ground and report any signs of security force activity to the resident terrorist groups that had been operating in the area for some time, and that knew each other. To make matters worse, the area was not generally used for transit by other groups, which meant that it would make our pseudo operations more problematic.

After two weeks of operating without success, the three pseudo groups I had operating in the area were slowly starving to death. Every village they approached refused to help them, saying they were not real comrades. No support from the locals meant no food to eat and no blankets at night to keep warm. Things were not going well. I needed to meet and speak with the three groups. Looking at the map, I selected an isolated hill feature a good distance from where we were operating but still within my frozen area. I passed the grid reference to the three group commanders and told them I would meet them there in two days. I intended to move there that night.

It took Peter, the tame terrorist, and I, most of the night to get there. By seven the following evening, the three groups had arrived, tired and hungry. After speaking to the group commanders, I knew we were wasting our time. We were not compromised as such but because the resident groups did not know us, they would not meet with us and had warned the locals against feeding us. I got on the radio and explained the situation to my controller, requesting a helicopter uplift the next morning.

“Not possible,” I was told, “the helicopters are busy tomorrow morning.”

It would have to be the following day. That meant another night on the hill. The biggest problem I was facing was the fact that no one had any food.

I called the group commanders together and explained the situation. I asked them how far it was to the nearest village.

“Not far,” they said.

An African person’s idea of not far and a European person’s idea of not far are like chalk and cheese, so I asked how long it would take me to walk there.

“No more than an hour,” they said.

“Okay,” I said, addressing Thomas, one of the group commanders, “go to the village and get a goat, some chickens, anything.” I did not mind what it was as long as it would feed us for the next two days. As he left smiling broadly, I added, “Thomas, I do not want Special Branch asking me about a local being killed in an area where I was operating at the time of his death.”

Thomas assured me there was no need to worry: they would not harm anyone. Thomas had a weakness for dagga that had made him do some amazingly stupid things in the past and, as you may have read earlier, was known for taking the initiative.

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