Before I continue with the history of the Rhodesian Air Force Parachute Training School, I think now would be an appropriate time to include a chapter written by a PJI who served in PTS throughout the Rhodesian Bush War. Warrant Officer A.B. Hughes was the first PJI trained entirely in PTS and he was awarded the MFC for his contribution to the training of despatchers and the manning of the Parra Fire Forces during this conflict. Tony was unfortunately injured doing a parachute jump which resulted in him being grounded and therefore unable to continue as a PJI. However he was still able to man and run a Fire Force which he did on numerous occasions. Tony was always the first to be called when extra staff were required to man large numbers of Dakota Aircraft for big external attacks. He was greatly respected for his absolute attention to detail and cheerful authority. As he himself mentions, he was a real, “shit I’d like to have a go at that!” kind of guy – enthusiastic, motivated and gutsy. As a highly valued colleague, a place was always kept for Tony in the PTS crew room and for water jumps.
This is his story written in his words and I will publish it in instalments over the coming days. Thank you Tony for your contribution.
THE BEST DAYS by: Tony Hughes. Part one
During the latter part of 1964 I qualified as a Corporal Technician, trained in the Air Wireless trade and was based at that time at the Royal Rhodesian Air Force base - New Sarum.
My work, previously confined to servicing the radio equipment on jet aircraft based at the Air Force’s station Thornhill, in Gwelo, was now mainly looking after the communications equipment of 3 Squadron’s transport aircraft, mainly of C47 Dakota, Percival Pembroke and Canadair C4 transports.
Early each morning, when the Parachute Training School was conducting SAS parachute courses, those of us who lived on the station would see Dakotas fly circuits in an orbit around Runway 32, dropping sticks of paratroops all using British GQ “X type” static-line parachutes. I guess one is either the type of person who looks at this sort of activity and thinks “that’s interesting, but no thanks” or “shit I’d like to have a go at that!”
I pretty much fell into the latter category, but somehow I had convinced myself the last thing I would ever get a chance to do in the Air Force, as a newly qualified Air Radio fitter, was become a Parachute Jumping Instructor (PJI).
Then as luck would have it, one weekend afternoon, a bloke called Buster Brown came around to the Airmen’s Mess. He bought a few of us drinks, as he looked to drum up some interest for his recently formed Sky Diving Club based out at Mount Hampden airport. This was the home of private aviation in Salisbury in those days.
I needed little encouragement signing up for a little ground training (the future would soon show how little training was actually given.) This was followed by my first static-line jump from a Cessna 172 at about 2,500 feet over Mt. Hampden.
On the instruction of my instructor Dave Parks, who coincidentally was then a soldier serving with “C” Squadron SAS, I climbed out under the wing of the little Cessna being flown by the legendary pilot Zack Bondi who stood only about five foot three and needed blocks on the rudder pedals to fly. Zack kindly applied the footbrakes to the main wheels (occasionally the pilot did not apply the brakes resulting in the pupil dancing the “light fantastic” on spinning wheels) and waited for Dave to give me the “Go”.
To this day, I have little clear recollection of my first exit, hardly any of the canopy opening sensation, virtually none of the time under canopy apart from the fact that I got a great view and it was quiet and peaceful. So I spent my time driving the double “L” canopy around the sky, until at about 200 feet above ground, I suddenly realized how close the ground was and realized I had better adopt the recently taught “landing position”. Seconds later, my first parachute descent had ended with what was called, by those on the DZ as a passable landing, and Buster Brown had a new club member because I was hooked!
Less than a year after this, I happened to be reading the Radio Section’s copy of the RRAF New Sarum SRO’s (Station Routine Orders), when there, for all to see, was an announcement that PTS was looking to recruit a new PJI. Unbeknown to me at that time, this requirement had come about as a result of a PJI - Mercer Thompson, who had sustained an injury (funnily enough, I understand, doing sport parachuting) which it seemed, would preclude him parachuting again.
After discussing my future with my closest mentor, Chief Technician Alan Dewsbury, I decided to apply to become a PJI. This was not a difficult decision because all I had ever wanted to do since a schoolboy, was get into the air.
I also learned that another Air Force fellow - Mervyn Shaw, who was then serving with the fire and rescue section at New Sarum had also applied. So the two of us began training under the direct instruction of that fine PJI - Sgt Trevor Smith, as well as being under the watchful eyes and constant scrutiny of every other member of the PTS staff.
Mervyn and I were told there was a place for only one of us, so the competition between us was clear and present!
We were also told that very shortly, both of us would become part of the students of No. 19. SAS Basic Course, and would be treated as though we were SAS soldiers (for this read – no favours).
Just prior to the SAS course beginning, on the 28th October 1965, my log book records I did my first Air Force parachute descent at Inkomo Barracks and that the despatchers were; Squadron Leader Swart (then the OC PTS) and Sgt Trevor Smith.
This photograph is of #19 Basic Static Line course and Tony Hughes U/T PJI is seen kneeling on the left of the group, note the collar and tie. The PTS Staff seated from L to R are Sgt Frank Hales PJI, Flg/Off Derek de Kock Training Officer, Sqn/Ldr Boet Swart C.O.(The Boss) W.O.1 Bill Maitland PTS Warrant Officer (RSM to the Army) Sgt Trevor Smith PJI . Mervin Shaw in collar and tie U/T PJI
It would be almost a month before I jumped again, this time with my fellow members of No. 19, Basic Course. At that time the basic course consisted of a total of 8 daylight static line descents, of which five were clean fatigue, and three with the CSPEP (Carrying Straps Personal Equipment Parachutist).
Tony Hughes being retrieved from the cold waters of Lake McIllwaine having just completed water jump. After Tony had broken his leg, on more than one occasion, his parachuting was restricted to water jumps and a place was always saved for him on these occasions.
By year end 1965, my total descents with Air Force were 12, of which two had been staff water jump training into nearby Lake McIllwain.
These water jumps were basically a “jolly” and after we had been recovered we used to have a bit to eat and a few drinks.
Later the water jump facility was offered to aircrew who could volunteer to attend a day’s training at PTS before parachuting into Lake Mac the following day. The purpose of this exercise was not to encourage aircrew to abandon their aircraft, but rather to allow them some under canopy experience. Those who volunteered generally had a couple of fun days with us and because landings were into water we had a zero injury rate.
Because of the relative scarcity of courses in those days (little did any of us realise how soon things would rapidly change) it would be April 1966 before it was announced I was to be the new PJI, and I was awarded the coveted PJI Brevet.
I had worked hard for selection and was completely exhilarated by this news and was proud and honoured to have been chosen to be part of this very select group of very individual men..... To be continued tomorrow on the blog
Buster Brown is my grandfather!
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