DEREK'S STORY Episode 2

 On return to Rhodesia, from the Cyprus tour I was posted to Number 3 Squadron as an instrument-fitter. I also sat, and passed, my Corporal Technician exam and was allowed to turn my two tapes upside-down. It was my job to repair and maintain Number 3 Squadron aircraft, which consisted of DC-4M Canadair, Dakotas (DC-3s), and Pembrokes. After about a year of this, I was bored, so bored I even contemplated applying for pilot training!

Luckily, just at this time, I noticed in station routine orders, that the Air Force was looking for volunteers to become parachute jumping instructors. Even though I’d never even seen a parachute deployed, I decided this might be quite interesting, applied, and was accepted. After completing my training, the other Rhodesians and I returned home as fully trained Sgt PJIs.

As described earlier in this blog, towards the end of October 1961, my fellow PJIs and I built the Parachute Training School from the ground up, and prepared to train our first course - the first troops from ‘C’ ( Rhodesia) Squadron  of  the British 22^nd SAS Regiment.

 As a prelude to the course, and as PR exercise for the school and the Air Force in general, we opted to do a public demonstration. So, on November 1, 1961, we took off at 0530 hours in Dakota No.153 piloted by Flight Lieutenant George Alexander for the very first military parachute descents in the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland.

There was a fitting amount of hoop-la - everybody, including the press, and several VIPs were on hand to witness the occasion. Everyone waited in anticipation, but it all came to a grinding halt because of low cloud. The aircraft returned to base and we, and the crowd, waited until the clouds lifted, the skies cleared and we were finally on our way.

 In this photograph the Royal Rhodesian Air Force Parachute Training School Instructors , (All looking a little tense) are seen waiting for Dakota 153 to get airborne to carry out the first demonstration parachute jumps on 1 Nov 1961. 
Left to right Flying Officer R.Smith BEM RAF, Flt/Sgt R. Robinson BEM RAF, Sgt N. Suttie RRAF, Sgt D.de Kock RRAF, Sgt T. Smith RRAF, Sgt M. Tomson RRAF, Flt/Sgt W. Maitland RRAF. 

I was tasked to demonstrate the PWC (Parachutist Weapons Container) which was basically a lump of concrete weighing approximately 60lbs. The PWC was a suspended load attached to the main parachute harness with two special hooks, and was lowered with a suspension rope 15 feet long after the parachute had deployed.

The idea was for the load to land first, thus allowing the parachutist to land, unencumbered, slowly and gracefully. I was No.2 in a slow? pair. As I plummeted towards the earth I realised there is a difference, a very big difference, in the rate of descent at sea-level compared with the rate of descent at 5000 feet above sea-level. This difference was increased even more when using the 28-foot flat canopy X type parachutes that the British had given us.

It was later determined by me and a stopwatch, that the average rate of descent on the DZ at Salisbury Airport, using these X-type parachutes, was 22 feet per second. This is bloody fast. Nevertheless, everything went smoothly. We impressed those watching, as well as ourselves.

By the end of 1961, I’d managed to do a total of 38 parachute descents. At Abingdon I was surprised to find that few people had done more than 100 military parachute descents, so within the space of a few months, we were well on the way to catching up with the experts.

Also by the end of 1961, we’d already managed to train three courses. Life was hectic. We were training troops flat-out with a new course starting every three weeks. However, I managed to get some leave to marry the love of my life, Chalice, on February 17, 1962.

 During these early days, the end of the parachute course also indicated the final phase of SAS selection, and, as usual in most military circles, was an excuse for a great party. The new members of this elite band were required to drink a yard of ale as quickly as possible. I believe a certain Chris Schollenberg (Schulie) held the record of less than 11 seconds. Never in the field of human conflict has so much beer been drunk by so few.

The Rhodesian SAS Sqn was billeted at Ndola, on the Copper Belt of Northern Rhodesia, (now Zambia) and the Parachute Training School flew up there to carry out continuation training. This was exciting because we were usually dropped into vleis, surrounded by jungle – very boy’s own adventure. On more than one occasion, when I jumped as the drifter, I found myself waist-deep in some very smelly mud. At least it was a soft landing the only drawback was burning off the leeches that decided to snack on my blood; nasty little suckers.

These were the carefree days. Before the Bush War kicked up. Before things became too real. It was pretty much fun, games, adventures and parties, and very little was done to disturb our wonderful existence. 

 In 1963, I was selected for commission and sent to RAF Jerby on the Isle of Man, on No.147 Officer Cadet Course RAF. I arrived there on February 17 1963, my first wedding anniversary, and damn near died of cold. The snow was over six feet deep, and I did not have the clothing for those Arctic conditions. I did survive, however, and was commissioned as a Flying Officer on May 22, 1963. I returned immediately to Rhodesia where I became the Training Officer/Chief Instructor of No.1 PTS, Royal Rhodesian Air Force. At the end of this course I was given the opportunity to transfer over to the Royal Air Force. By this time I had spent many years training with the Royal Air Force. Because of my Colonial/ Rhodesian Farming background I had found the courses I had been on relatively easy. I would have fitted into the RAF with ease. But my home was Rhodesia and I was willing to fight for it. Besides the English weather left a hell of a lot to be desired and Chalice would not have been happy. (Yes, I actually held the Queen’s Commission and the RAF wanted me).

On my return to PTS RRAF, my first job was to teach my new boss Flt/Lt M.J. Swart (Boet) how to become a PJI. Fortunately for him, (and me) he was a naturally good instructor who quickly learned the necessary skills required to maintain our very high standard. Boet had transferred from the Federal Army and, was a tremendous help to me in later years, mainly because he knew how the Army worked and knew everybody worth knowing in it.

 

 This photograph shows the versatility of the parachute training school staff  here we see Frank Hales and Boet Swart taking a breather during a survival course they were running for the Rhodesian Air Force Air Crew/Pilot cadets. 

 Here Boet Swart dressed in his Air Force Uniform is showing the commanders of the Rhodesian Army  and the Royal Rhodesian Air Force the RAF P.T.S. Plaque.

This is a photograph of basic parachute course number 17 and shows the P.T.S. staff seated L.to R. Sgt Frank Hales W.O. Bill Maitland, Sqn/Ldr Boet Swart, F/O Derek de Kock Sgt Trevor Smith

Here Boet can be seen as the P.M.C. of the Officers Mess with the Rhodesian Air Force Commander,  Air Marshal Archie Wilson and the President Of Rhodesia Clifford Dupont being piped into dinner at the Officers Mess New Sarum. I also was appointed  the P.M.C. some time later and was required to host dignitaries from time to time.

Boet had already qualified as a parachutist on No.3 basic static line course and all that was required was to teach him the necessary safety procedures, and how to instruct as a PJI. The very first rule was never to get pressured into dropping troops just to help the Brass show- off because that is how men get injured. On occasion Boet was inclined to ignore this rule which resulted in a few fast arrivals.

At the end of 1963, the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland broke up, and most of the SAS took off over the hill. The Rhodesian SAS were left with approximately 31 other ranks (ORs), the remainder, including all the officers, left the force with most of them going to the UK. Luckily for this story, all the Rhodesian PJIs decided to remain with the Royal Rhodesian Air Force and continued to serve as before.

In October 1969, I become CO of the Parachute Training School. Frank Hales was commissioned and became Training Officer. Bill Maitland was commissioned and posted out to the General Service Unit at New Sarum. Trevor Smith was promoted to Warrant Officer and became the School W.O.

In January 1971, new staff were recruited into the Parachute Training School. As mentioned in an earlier chapter, we’d had to look for new staff all over the place as very few airmen wanted to join the silly people who jumped out of serviceable aircraft. There were a few from the Army who were willing to give it a go and that was where most of our staff finally came from, joined by a small number from civvy street.

I’m unsure of exact dates, but people like John Boynton, Ralph Moore, Charlie Buchan, Iain Bowen and Mike Wiltshire all joined the staff around this time. These men would become the back bone of the PTS staff.

Between 1961 and 1980, there were only 40 PJIs to qualify and serve in the Rhodesian Parachute Training School. These men were dedicated, and driven instructors who carried out an incredible job, often under tremendous pressure. They earned the Rhodesian Air Force PJI Brevet (half wing) -  the rarest combat parachute badge in the world.