THE CONNIE COUSINS STORY

THE STORY OF OUR SECRET WEAPON

 PTS’sVERY OWN BLUE BIRD CONNIE WISE nee COUSINS

This is the only photograph I have been able to find which shows the Safety Equipment Section Rhodesian Air Force New Sarum. It was taken to celebrate the 50000 parachute descent at the Parachute Training School. These Safety Equipment Workers were responsible for the repair and repacking of all the parachutes used during the Rhodesian bush war against terror. The Parachute Training School secret weapon and our Blue Bird Connie Cousins is seated 3rd from the left. Connie completed the basic static line and free fall courses and was used as a drifter on many occasions. Connie became a very good parachutist and if it was ever an option during our time of conflict I believe she would have made a good PJI. However in those times this was not going to happen. Although she completed the parachute courses she was not entitled to wear parachute wings on the shoulder because she was in the Air Force and only the Army could wear those. If I ever have the opportunity to right a wrong I would present Connie with her wings because she earned them.  
 Well done Connie and thanks for the contribution 

An E-mail I received a couple of weeks ago brought back a flood of memories going back to 1973 when I joined the Rhodesian Air force. My goodness, how young and fearless we were and full of passion to rid our beloved Rhodesia from terrorism. In order to do this we worked very hard, played hard, but never lost our sense of humour. The last got us through all the tight spots, mainly when losing a friend in action, which seemed to be more frequently as the conflict intensified.

So, in order to do my bit, I joined the very first intake of RWS ( RHODESIAN WOMEN SERVICE) and threw myself with gusto into the daily routine of basic training, which included Drill Instruction with the SWO, various courses on how to behave and who is who in the forces, weapon training, assault course etc. Once our basic training was completed, all the girls, affectionately known as the Blue Birds were placed into different departments of the Air force.

I applied to work in the Safety Equipment Section, having romantic notions to parachute one day! How naive I was. An added problem was my lack of understanding and mastering the English language, I was born and bred in Germany. My English improved rapidly through reading, listening and talking.

To my horror the powers to be placed me to work in stores doing paperwork! Safety Equipment was not ready to receive girls as yet- I think they were scared of us. Luckily it was only for a couple of months and I got my transfer to S.E.S. The unit consisted of three different departments: Flying Clothing, Dinghy and Parachutes. The latter was again divided into Ejection Seat Parachutes and then Static Line and Free Fall Parachutes for the Parachute Training School. There was also a Parachute Repair Section where all manner of repairs to Parachutes Flying Clothing and indeed some odd repair requests from various departments of the Airforce were undertaken.

I loved the work right from the start, even though the Sergeant who taught me how to pack a Saviac Parachute didn`t think much of women and much less of Germans. We did become good friends anyway. In fact the comradeship between all of us was next to none and gave me a good feeling deep in my heart.

So, through my work, the yearning to parachute and sky dive intensified and when Kevin Milligan and Paul Hogan formed a Sky Diving Club for the Air force I was in like Flynn. Those PTS guys were my heroes. I don`t think I was ever so much as good, rather more keen. For my very first landing I ended up in one of the very few trees on the DZ. Due to my excellent ground training I never had as much as a scratch on me, just hurt pride.

Not being satisfied with taking to the skies just once a week, I applied to my superiors to take part on one of the Basic Static Line courses at the PTS, I thought it would be a good idea to not only fold and repair parachutes, but to use them as well, thus giving me a complete insight and understanding to the whole process of parachuting. I came across a lot of red tape, which gradually, through my persistence, unwound and I finally got permission.

Once again I had to wait until the RLI started with their parachute training so I could join them. Whilst waiting I carried on at Kevin’s Sky Diving Club, progressing to free fall, and generally having a lot of fun. I also started a fitness programme. Running a couple of miles every day, sit-ups, push-ups and cutting down on the beer intake.

Eventually "D" day arrived and I started my ground training for a Basic Static Line course with the RLI. Surprisingly, my get-fit programme paid off, and I could easily keep up with the troopies. Now I was in my element, even though it was mentally and physically tough, like nothing I ever did before. Throughout my training I had complete support from the PTS staff, but no favours. If I screwed up on something I also heard the dreaded "give me ten" ( push-ups ), so I tried hard not to make too many mistakes.

  

Finally the big day arrived, and our course boarded the Dakota Aircraft for the very first jump (23-9-76). Everyone was a bit nervous, but excited at the same time. The Basic Static Line course consisted of 9 jumps- each one advancing to a higher level: starting out single, then slow pairs, stick of 3, stick of 6, stick of 11, then stick of 2 with Equipment. This is where I got my only concession- my container only weighed 40KG, and instead of the troopies FN rifle I carried an Uzi SMG.

This was a brand new experience, and I found this exercise particular tiring. After each jump we had to gather all our equipment, load it onto a truck and then double back from the DZ to the PTS hangar. A funny thing happened after the first equipment jump. We were lined up in threes to run back to the hangar and I somehow slowed the troopies down. No worries to my mates, as I was the middle "man" in the front, the men on the  left and right, just lifted me up by each arm and carried me for some distance , so I could catch my breath, and everyone avoided the "give me ten" for being too slow back in the hangar. True comradeship- one for all and all for one.

The jump before qualifying was a night jump, which did not bother me at all compared to some of the troopies. It was just a matter of counting from the exit to landing, hoping there was no anthill or other obstacle in your landing spot and being in a good body position to roll into a good landing. On 1-10-1976 was our final and qualifying jump with full equipment and I was No6 in a Stick of 10, followed by a Wings Parade

.

After that I continued parachuting at the PTS at every opportunity, mainly as a drifter or demo jumper for a Basic Static Line course. My personal favourite was always the night jump. One stands out particularly in my memory. A night jump over Seki - I was no1 of a stick of 3 demo jump for an RAR ( Rhodesian African Rifle ) Basic Static Line course, a really black night, no moon at all.

Going up in the Dakota the troopies were sing their signature tune, "The Sweet Banana" song, to alleviate their fear, I guess. It was really moving to hear them sing, but I couldn`t wait to get out of the aircraft. Holding my breath on exiting I forgot to count and landed unprepared in a thorn bush and bit my tongue. It was my worst ever landing, mouth full of blood and thorns pricking into me everywhere. I had to get myself together as quickly as possible, as already I heard the instructor for the third time shouting for my OK. My worst ever fear was not to be asked to jump for PTS ever again because I was injured in anyway. So I pulled myself together, spat out a mouth full of blood and shouted my OK. Quickly, I gathered my parachute, cleaned myself up as best I could and doubled back to the waiting vehicle. Needless to say I was very quiet on the drive back to New Sarum, staying in the background and then disappearing home as quickly as I could on returning to PTS.

I gave myself a break of 2 weeks before returning to PTS and carried on regardless. Being a drifter or doing demo jumps for basic static line courses was great fun and I also applied for permission to do a free fall course at PTS which, in due course, I was allowed to do. So, against all odds I wormed myself into PTS. for the love of Sky Diving. It was really a great life.

It came to a sudden halt when, on my very first free fall for PTS, I broke a bone in my left heel on landing. It caused a real dilemma for me, as I worked so hard to gain permission to do parachuting, I didn`t want it stop for mere physical reasons. So I had to convince my boss at S.E.S. that my injury was due to an accident other than parachuting. I also had to let the bone heal before taking to the skies again, It was nearly six months before I was able to jump at PTS again. Not deterred by my injury one bit, I carried on being a drifter and Demo jumper for the various static line and free fall courses at PTS. I also had a go at relative work during free fall, which was really hard for me, not being a natural. Eventually, getting a couple of good links made everything worthwhile.

Throughout my Airforce career I completed 141 static line jumps and 42 free fall jumps in a non-active capacity, fully trained, but for training and demo purposes only.  I thoroughly enjoyed that experience.

My most memoral jumps were my very first military jump, my disastrous night jump, the 50,000 demo jump, and my one free fall jump with the TA MK2 Parachute. This was special to me as I re-rigged and repaired the canopy myself as part of my practical test for promotion to Sgt. which proved my original pipe dream of parachuting had a practical purpose as well.

            At the end of an unforgettable time I can look back on a period of time, where I                      learned a lot and gained valuable experience, equipping me with skills to help me                   face and deal with challenges thrown at me in years to come.

My gratitude goes out to all the P.T.S. staff for the opportunity they gave me and I wish them well where ever they may be.

CONNIE