CHAPTER 10 THE QUALITIES REQUIRED TO BECOME A RHODESIAN AIR FORCE PARACHUTE JUMPING INSTRUCTOR

This photograph  shows the Royal Air Force Parachute Jumping Instructor (PJI) aircrew brevet and it was awarded to the original five Royal Rhodesian Air Force PJI's on 25th August 1961 at  No 1 Parachute Training School RAF Abingdon

In March 1970, Britain removed the Royal title from the Royal Rhodesian Air Force; because of this new flying wings, minus the crown, were issued. The pilots’ wings and other aircrew half-wings remained the same size but, much to our disgust, the Parachute Jumping Instructor half-wing was made approximately three quarters of the size. Letters of complaint were forwarded to Air Headquarters but it was a wasted effort. The order came back for all the PJIs to replace the RAF half wing with the new, smaller half-wing.

This Photograph  shows the much smaller Rhodesian Air Force Parachute Jumping Instructor  (PJI) Brevet The depiction above is of actual size and it is much smaller than the other Air Crew Brevets.

There and then, the staff of the school decided, despite its smaller size, this parachute wing would be the largest in terms of excellence. We were determined to make it the most prestigious badge in the world. It is certainly amongst the rarest, as only 38 were ever presented.

Before this, the five original Royal Rhodesian Air Force PJIs, trained at RAF Abingdon, were awarded the RAF PJI Brevet. The RAF PJI Brevet is a half-wing, depicting a parachute. It is exactly the same size as all the other RAF aircrew Brevets and is worn on the left breast just above any medals. 

On August 25 1961, the 5 Rhodesians were presented with the RAF PJI Brevet in the School at RAF Abingdon. It must have been truly earned, because they allowed us to train two more courses of the famous Parachute Regiment before we flew home to Rhodesia.

So exactly what kind of person was worthy of wearing our coveted new brevet? Some would say we were just ordinary airmen or soldiers.... with a lot of screws loose in the cranial cavity. Others, (usually ourselves,)  would say we were brave and fearless supermen.  I came to believe the men I worked with, were the finest. Instructors and leaders who gave others the confidence, and skill, to hurl themselves out of an aircraft, without question, to an uncertain outcome. This took a rare and special person.  

It did not do my Air Force career any good when I told a number of very senior officers  it was far easier to find people to drive aeroplanes than it was to find those willing to abandon them mid- flight. The ideal candidate would be a 25 year-old, exceptionally fit school teacher with the wisdom of middle-age and the bravery of youth. 

In the early 70s, we were suddenly tasked with finding a herd of these rare beasts.  In early 1970 a number of  staff changes took place in the Parachute Training School: Boet Swart left the Air Force and returned to the Army. I  was promoted to Sqn/ Ldr and appointed to C.O. PTS.  Bill Maitland was commissioned and posted to the General Service Unit. Frank Hales was commissioned and appointed as the Chief Instructor / Training Officer. And Trevor Smith was promoted to W.O.2 and became the school Warrant Officer. Now there was a severe shortage of Sergeant Parachute Jumping Instructors, especially as Tony Hughes, the only Sgt PJI, was injured. Another drastic shortage was experienced in 1973 when the Rhodesian Bush War escalated.

So how did we overcome this?  The senior PTS staff members brain-stormed in the crew room and wrote a number of questions to be posed to all new applicants. Other than the obvious “Are you crazy?” they went roughly as follows:

1.                 Have you ever watched a parachute jump?

2.                 Have you ever done a parachute jump?

3.                 Have you had any military training, and if so where was it?

4.                 Have you ever taught or instructed anybody, on anything, and if so what was   it and where?

5.                 What makes you want to teach people how to jump out of a serviceable aircraft?

6.                 What makes you think that you will be able to teach soldiers how to parachute?

7.                 Do you have a problem with instructing African Soldiers?

8.                 Can you communicate with African Soldiers?

9.                 Do you have any training with explosives and if so what type and where?

10       Do you have any technical or mechanical training?

11       Do you know how to shoot? If yes what weapons did you use?

12      Have you had any medical training or first aid skills?

13      Why do you want to join this crazy bunch of misfits?

The last was the most important. We were looking for calm, capable instructors. Previous parachuting was not essential, but the school was definitely not after thrill seekers. We wanted people who could show very frightened men how to control their terror and, no matter what the situation, still do all the correct drills. The correct drills had to be carried out by the PJI as well; even when he was terrified and distracted, he had to remain calm, focussed and in control.

 Fitness was also crucial and a number of applicants were rejected immediately because of their fitness levels. All candidates had to pass an aircrew medical before acceptance onto the PJI training course and every PJI had to pass this very stringent aircrew medical check on an annual basis.

 As mentioned earlier, attitude was everything. A number of applicants came from the lower ranks of the Rhodesian Army; some thought they would have an easier time at the School than in their current military jobs and some were bored with their present occupations and were looking for excitement. These were rejected immediately.

Adverts were placed in the local press, and I approached the SAS to ask them to transfer their best junior N.C.O.s  to PTS as there were a number of vacancies for sergeants.

Initially, only one suitable applicant, Mike Wiltshire, came from the press adverts.  But in later years we did get a few others, including Kevin Milligan, Mike Wiltshire, Paul Hogan, Chris Pessara, and John Early. Most of these men had served with the armed forces of other nations, though Paul Hogan and Mike Wiltshire came straight from civilian life and required basic military training before starting their actual PJI training.

From the SAS Denis Buchan, Ralph Moore, and Ian Bowen were willing to transfer to the Rhodesian Air Force. We were also pleased to get John Boynton from the Army. All of these men became highly regarded PJIs and proud wearers of our brevet.

Having observed a number of PJIs hobbling around with crutches and plaster casts, not many Air Force members were willing to risk their lives and limbs. One exception was Senior Aircraftsman Ian Douglas, a Safety Equipment Worker who managed to make the grade and became an excellent PJI. Ian was later commissioned and now sells parachutes around the world.

Our PJI course was different to the one we were given in Abingdon. In the RAF, parachute instructors were selected from the physical fitness branch of the Royal Air Force. They were basically PE teachers with extensive experience in this field. A basic teaching ability was assumed. The five original Rhodesian Air Force PJI trainees were not taught how to teach; we were basically tradesmen who had to learn this particular skill on the job. This was one area where our PJI training differed -  the course at the Rhodesian PTS focused on teaching methods as well as parachuting techniques.

Once selected to start the PJI program, the trainee was required to complete a basic static line course. There were no exceptions to this rule – those with previous training had to do it again. However a very close eye was kept on these men and they were expected to perform better than the other trainees. This was no easy task, especially if they had to keep up with the fit, young, tough soldiers from the SAS or the RLI (Rhodesian Light Infantry).

After completing the first basic static line course, the Under Training Parachute Jumping Instructor (UT/PJI) was paired with a senior PJI who showed the hopeful candidate the progressive steps in training military parachutists. The qualified PJI would take a section of troops on the next course and the UT/PJI would have every minute step explained to him as they progressed. The UT/PJI would then instruct  the class and, under the watchful eye of the PJI, carry out what he had just been taught. The UT/PJI was expected to reach a standard of proficiency by the end of this second course.

During operations, the back end of a Dakota was a very busy and stressful place. It required absolute attention to detail and the ability to make fast, accurate decisions. The UT/PJI was expected to master all dispatching duties with absolute confidence, and to be aware of the massive responsibility with which he was entrusted.

Not only did he have to give orders to the paratroopers, some of whom could have high rank, but he also had to advise the skipper on the selection of drop zones, and the necessary configuration of the aircraft for a safe drop. Depending on the circumstances it was sometimes necessary to slow the sticks down or to speed them up and, on rare occasions, stop a stick completely. All these possibilities were taught and practiced by the UT/PJI at first in the Dakota mock-up in the PTS hangar, and then on actual training drops.

For this reason , we tested the confidence, sense of authority and ability to think on the run of all UT/PJIs. Not only did they have to deliver the lectures which formed a part of every static line course, but they were also given a few public speaking tests. The potential PJI was required to give the PTS staff a lecture lasting at least ten minutes on a subject of his choice, as well as one on a subject of the training

officer’s choosing.

The UT/PJI was given a couple of day’s notice about his subject of choice, and was then expected to give a top lecture and to answer any questions from his audience of senior PJIs. Some of these lectures were of extremely high quality. The lecture by Mike Wiltshire on his days as a London bus driver was hilarious and was talked about for years. Another memorable lecture was delivered by one of our Americans about his days as a Houston cop – it certainly put our little war into perspective.

The other lecture, on a topic chosen by the training officer was of much shorter duration. The UT/PJI was given only 10 minutes warning and was expected to improvise. This was to see if the potential PJI could think on his feet. I had to talk about cigarettes at my PJI course at Abingdon, an easy task for me as my parents had grown tobacco on the family farm in Rhodesia. Most of these lectures bore little resemblance to the subject as it was usually twisted to suit the individual’s particular expertise.  This was always an interesting way to determine whether a potential PJI could make the grade or not, as he was required to produce something at short notice and project confidence to his peers.

One of the possible scenarios practiced in the Dakota mock-up included what to do if a paratrooper refused to jump as the stick was going out of the door. It is testament to the authority of the PJIs that this never happened on an operation. But if it had, the despatchers would have smacked his arms down and the rest of the stick would have pushed him out. Once the stick started to exit the aircraft it was very hard to stop as the men at the back were always pushing forward to get out as quickly as possible.

On training, if the same thing occurred, the soldier concerned would have been pulled out of the stick by the no.1 and no.2 dispatchers and tossed into the toilet at the rear of the Dakota, whilst the remainder of the stick carried on exiting. This was practiced in the mock up in the hangar but I don't think it ever happened.

Another scenario discussed, and where possible practiced, was what to do if a soldier was wounded during the run over the DZ. It was the PJIs job to ensure all his troops arrived on the ground in the best possible condition to carry out their primary function- to fight. All the UT/ PJIs and dispatchers were taught combat first aid, and on a number of occasions had to treat injured soldiers on the way back to the more sophisticated medical facilities. The Rhodesian Air Force medics showed us how to fix saline drips, to stop bleeding, to administer morphine, and generally how to keep wounded soldiers alive. The PJI and the Dakota Tech were also responsible for cleaning out the back of the aircraft which at times looked like a bloody butcher shop

The final stage of the UT/PJI’s training was being allocated a section on the next Basic Static Line course. During this he would be carefully watched by a qualified PJI . He would also be watched by every PJI on the staff, and at the end of every session a debrief would take place where improvements on instructional techniques were made. Later when  John Boynton became the School Warrant Officer (Sergeant Major as far as the Army was concerned)  he had the task of ensuring the UT/PJIs reached the required standard. As far as John was concerned there was only one way to do the job and that was the right way.

Once the UT/PJI mastered all the necessary skills to teach a section on his own to the complete satisfaction of the Training Officer/ Chief Instructor and the rest of the PJIs, the new man would be awarded the coveted PJI Brevet. This was usually done by the person awarding wings to the soldiers at the end of their course. The new PJI was also immediately promoted to sergeant. And became entitled to a whole extra 25 cents per day parachute pay!

These two Photographs show Sgt Denis Buchan on the left and Sgt Iain  Bowen being awarded their Rhodesian Air Force Parachute Jumping Instructor Brevet's by Rhodesian Army Commander Lt/ General Keith Coster  1971. 

Thousands of troops were trained by PJIs at the school; they came from every unit in the Armed Forces of Rhodesia and from all ethnic backgrounds. These men could be mixed into aircraft loads and would all carry out the correct drills. Every time. Without exception. This can only be credited to the skill and professionalism of the Parachute Training School Staff. They were without doubt the best Parachute Jumping Instructors in the world and they jumped from one of the best aircraft ever made, flown by the most skilful pilots.