Dingo Firestorm (7 page)

‘We needed diplomatic clearance from the Portuguese to enter Mozambique in hot pursuit,’ recalls PB. This gave the gang a little time, but not enough, as the helicopter again proved its worth as a key counter-insurgency weapon. Diplomatic permission eventually came through, and early the next morning, the battle cry ‘contact’ came over the airwaves. Strong was engaging ZANLA. In a series of firefights over a wide area, most of the group were eventually killed or captured. ZANLA had failed again.

Tongogara was pretty upset about these latest losses, but not as angry as his forces, who were becoming disillusioned about being sent to Rhodesia as cannon fodder. Nevertheless, it took another two years before Chitepo slowly started accepting that there was some sense in the strategy Tongogara was proposing. Chitepo finally gave the new plan his full support, and even gave the impression that it was all his idea. ‘It is useless to engage in conventional warfare with well-equipped Rhodesian and South African troops along the Zambezi,’ said Chitepo in a news interview published in the
Rhodesia Herald
in August 1971. Chitepo’s interview publicly signalled the switch of strategy.

The new strategy was sound in principle, but the hot valley of the Zambezi with its sparse population did not provide Tongogara’s fish with much water. An added complication was that the Zambezi Valley was a long way from ZANLA’s training base at Itumbi. Despite the distance, however, Tongogara managed to smuggle a reconnaissance group through Zambia into the Zambezi Valley to observe the Rhodesians and establish links with friendly peasants. The group returned to Itumbi with discouraging news. Not only was the valley a physically hostile environment, but the local people were distinctly unfriendly to ZANLA and had no desire to be ‘liberated’. They also had a nasty habit of reporting the presence of insurgents to the Rhodesian authorities.

A new plan was needed, one that would completely bypass Zambia. Tongogara realised that the best chance of success would be to abandon Zambia and instead send his forces into Rhodesia’s north-east through Tete Province in Mozambique.

In the wake of the Battle of Sinoia in 1966, a troubled Flight Lieutenant Peter Petter-Bowyer started applying his entrepreneurial mind to improving helicopter performance.

‘I took it on myself to design, build and test a decent mounting for a 7.62-mm MAG machine gun and to fit a gun sight suited to side firing in forward flight,’ recalls PB.

PB had good hands and a natural gift for making things. At home, he made curtains and clothing for the kids, and even tailored dresses for his wife, Beryl. Born in Salisbury in 1936 to Paul and Shirley Petter-Bowyer, PB had aviation in his blood. On his father’s side there was an established tradition of naval pilots, and his great-uncle, the famous William Petter (the maiden name of Paul’s mother), had helped design the short-field Lysander aircraft of World War II fame, and later the English Electric Canberra, an aircraft that would play a key role in Rhodesia. William Petter was also a principal designer of the famous supersonic English Electric Lightning interceptor and the Folland Gnat jet trainer.

From early boyhood, PB had wanted to become a surgeon. At the appropriate age, his parents put his name down for a place at Edinburgh University to study medicine. It was not to be, however. PB’s dream of being a surgeon started falling apart when his parents suddenly separated and divorced. Ensuing financial pressure meant that PB and his brother were transferred from a top private school to a state school, albeit a good one, in the beautiful Eastern Highlands town of Umtali.

PB settled quickly into Umtali High and made good progress, until one day his father dropped a bombshell: ‘I am pulling you out of school.’ Without a matric exemption, PB knew he could not go to university. His dream was shattered. Deep down, he suspected his stepmother was behind it, but he had no choice in the matter. After PB had been working on a farm for a while, his father told him, ‘I have found a job for you as an apprentice carpenter and joiner based in Umtali.’ Yet again, PB had to comply; it hurt deeply. Nevertheless, he applied himself to his new craft and progressed well.

Then one day in 1956, everything changed when the RAF paid Umtali a flying visit. Four Venom jets came screaming through the valley and passed over Umtali. PB stood mesmerised as the jets shrieked past; he had never seen anything like it.

‘That’s it, I want to be a pilot with the Royal Rhodesian Air Force.’ PB was taking charge of his own life for the first time. His first task was to tell his boss that he was leaving to become a pilot. But he had a problem – joining the air force required a matric exemption. His boss, Mr Burford, disappointed as he was about the prospect of losing this talented apprentice, could sense PB’s enthusiasm, so he decided to help. Burford called PB’s old headmaster from Umtali High, who offered to vouch for PB’s academic ability. ‘Great,’ thought PB. ‘All I need to do now is get Dad’s signature.’

An excited PB grabbed the RRAF forms, hopped onto his motorbike and went to see his father and stepmother. However, it was a bitterly disappointing trip; someone was trying to prevent him from doing well in life. When PB arrived at his father’s house, his stepmother coldly hissed to his father: ‘Not over my dead body will you sign that application form.’ PB left the house in a daze, holding back tears as he kicked the motorbike into action and roared away from the source of his pain.

PB broke the news to Burford, but instead of being pleased that his gifted apprentice would after all be staying in the business, he called his lawyer. The law provided that PB’s mother, Shirley, who had also remarried, could sign the form as a parent. Shirley agreed to sign, even though she had lost both her brothers as pilots in World War II. Out of 350 applicants, PB was shortlisted along with 34 others to do further aptitude tests and interviews in Salisbury. He became one of only 18 candidates selected to join No. 10 Short Service Unit (SSU), and started training on 3 January 1957.

Before he knew it, PB was sitting at the controls of a Percival Provost trainer. Teaching him to fly was much-feared instructor Flight Lieutenant Mick McLaren, who would go on to become the air force commander. PB was a diligent pilot. After 13 hours of training, McLaren opened the hatch after a particular landing and, as he hopped out, said, ‘Well done, Petter-Bowyer. You are on your own. Fly a circuit and land.’

Without the authoritative presence of McLaren in the right-hand seat, it felt very different, but soon the task absorbed all his attention. He took off, revelling in the feeling of being alone in the cockpit, but all too soon it was time to land – a sobering thought, with nobody to help. PB need not have worried. He executed a perfect landing, thereby completing that unforgettable aviation milestone, the first solo.

PB sailed through instrument flying, night flying and precision navigation, and then graduated to jets, flying the Vampire T11 twin-seater and FB9 single-seater variants, an experience he loved.

PB married Beryl in 1958. A few weeks later, he achieved another aviation milestone. Sir Roy Welensky, the prime minister of the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland, gave a set of wings to each successful No. 10 SSU pilot, the proudest moment for an air force pilot. PB went on to learn about weapons – cannons, rockets and bombs – a discipline he mastered well, and, when combined with his entrepreneurial flair, one that would make him, years later, the top counter-insurgency air-weapon developer in an air force that was crippled by sanctions. His inventions would play an important role in Operation Dingo and many others in this war.

After finishing a spell as an instructor flying Provosts at Thornhill Airbase, PB became the station admin officer, but his real job was testing locally made weapons. One of the first weapons he tested contained a locally manufactured version of napalm. These fuel-gel incendiary devices were known as frangible tanks, or frantan.

On one testing sortie, PB nearly became a fried victim of frantan. He experienced what every bomber pilot dreads: a bomb that will not release, known as a hang-up. The armed and primed device would not release from the Provost, despite his trying to dislodge it by means of high-G manoeuvres (increasing the effective weight of the bomb through acceleration forces) and severe yawing to shake it off. PB had no choice but to land with the hung-up frantan. During the landing roll, the frantan released and ignited near the aircraft’s tail. Fortunately for PB, the Provost was still travelling quite fast when this occurred – any slower and the aircraft could have been incinerated. PB got away with nothing more than a badly ‘sunburnt’ neck, and the Provost with severely blistered paint.

In early 1966, PB joined No. 7 Squadron to start his helicopter training, which soon saw him involved in the Battle of Sinoia. After this, he determined to design a suitable gun platform with an appropriate aiming sight to enable a helicopter’s side-firing machine gun to be operated safely and accurately. He also took it upon himself to design a refuelling system that was better than the one used at the time – the
kamina-kawena
(mine-yours) handpump, which usually involved two people rocking a handle backwards and forwards to pump fuel from a 210-litre drum – a slow and laborious process.

Operational flying also occupied PB’s time. Four weeks after the Battle of Sinoia, he saw victims of terror for the first time when he was called out to respond to a ZANLA attack, this time by the Zvimba Group, a sister group of the Armageddon Gang, which had been wiped out in the Sinoia encounter. This attack took place near Hartley, not coincidentally in the area where, 70 years earlier, Gumboreshumba, also known by his spirit-medium name, Kaguvi, had been instrumental in organising the First Chimurenga.

The leader of the Zvimba Group was a BSAP deserter, who had taken on the
nom de guerre
Gumboreshumba. Two weeks after the Battle of Sinoia in April 1966, the Zvimba Group attacked Nevada Farm and gunned down Hendrik Viljoen and his wife, Barbara, in cold blood. Four helicopters led by John Rogers, with PB, Ian Harvey and Gordon Nettleton piloting the others, flew to the farm.

PB remembers the awful sight: ‘Mr Viljoen was naked and lying dead on the floor, and his wife, who had clearly tried to assist him, was gunned down next to him. Miraculously, their baby, in a cot alongside the main bed, was unscathed, although there were bullet holes in the wall inches from where the baby lay.’

Although Petrus Oberholzer, the farmer who bought his farm from Petter-Bowyer’s father, had been the first white person killed by ZANU, the Nevada incident was the first armed attack on a farm for 70 years.

Rhodesian forces eventually hunted down the Zvimba Gang and accounted for six of the seven. The sole survivor of the original 21 insurgents was Gumboreshumba, the former police officer, who managed to escape along the Hunyani River to Mozambique and ultimately Zambia. Edmond Nyandoro was less fortunate. Captured alive, he faced trial for the murder of the Viljoens. He was found guilty and sentenced to death. Before his hanging, Nyandoro revealed that he had received training at the Nanking Military Academy in China. This was the first tangible proof the Rhodesians had of Chinese involvement with ZANLA.

Meanwhile, PB continued working on the helicopter machine-gun mount and refuelling system. Together with ever-helpful technicians, he developed a robust, highly effective mounting for the machine gun, which incorporated a container for catching expended cartridges and links, thereby protecting the fast-spinning tail rotor and those on board from red-hot cartridges.

Now he needed to incorporate a sight. PB discovered a French-made reflector sight that improved accuracy dramatically. The Alouette could now double as an effective gunship and troop carrier. With only minor modifications, PB’s system rendered useful service throughout the war and played a key role in heli-borne operations.

PB also cracked the refuelling device, despite strong opposition from some senior air force officers who believed the manual system did not need to be changed. ‘We fuelled Spitfires in the Western Desert from jerrycans – a pump is a luxury’ was the cry from the old guard. However, they failed to appreciate that the Alouette’s short range meant that a cumbersome and slow handpump seriously compromised the helicopter’s main potential – rapid response.

PB was convinced that the aircraft ‘should be a slave unto itself’ and, undeterred, he worked on secretly. His invention utilised the Alouette’s engine as a substitute for human muscle. Powered refuelling was now possible with the engine running at idling speed and the rotor blades stationary. By taking a tapping from the compressor phase of the Alouette’s jet turbine engine, air pressure forced fuel from the drum through a hose into the helicopter’s fuel tanks. This invention proved to be significantly faster, cleaner and easier than the
kamina-kawena
handpump. It worked like a dream and became the standard until some years later, when small petrol-driven pumps became fashionable.

On a map, Tete Province in Mozambique looks like the head of a mouse in cartoon-character form. On the mouse’s nose is Zambia, its hat is Malawi and below its chin lies Rhodesia.

In the days of the Monomotapa and Rozwi kingdoms, Tete, or more particularly the Zambezi River, was a highway for trade. Gold, slaves, ivory and other tradable items were transported along the river to the Indian Ocean and on to Arabia.

This all started changing when the Portuguese mariner Bartholomew Dias landed at the mouth of the Gouritz River near present-day Mossel Bay in his caravel, the
São Cristóvão,
in 1498. He was the first European to see the shores of South Africa. Now that Dias had discovered that there was a sea route around the foot of Africa to the east, Portugal could challenge the Muslims in their domination of trade in the Indian Ocean. Dias’s discovery eventually led the Portuguese to what they called the Estado de Africa Oriental – the State of East Africa – and in particular to a land named after the local sultan: Mozambique.