After the break-up of the Federation, there was a
short time during which very little parachuting took place. The staff of the
school spent many hours formulating letters to Air Headquarters, pleading for
the opportunity to do free fall training. To no avail.
The Air Force already thought we were insane doing
normal static line jumps. But jumping out at high altitude then falling like a
brick before opening the parachute? No matter what arguments were put up they
failed. We tried to sell the idea of para-rescue teams, able to jump into the
bush to assist injured game rangers, farmers or tourists. The answer was
always, “We have helicopters to do that sort of thing.”
However we did have another string to our bow. The
staff at the PTS approached our friends in the SAS, who foresaw a time when it
would be necessary to have the ability to insert troops, in a clandestine way,
from high altitude. The SAS submitted a paper to Army HQ pointing out the need
for free fall teams to be trained. Army HQ in turn asked Air Force HQ if they
could send troops to PTS for HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) training.
Oops! PTS did not have any free fall instructors – or
free fall parachutes for that matter. Time to start scrambling.In July 1969, PTS received signals from Air HQ asking
us what was needed to train the PJIs in free fall parachuting; how long would
it take, what equipment was required, and how soon could courses start after
the necessary equipment was obtained? We were delighted. We’d been
waiting a long time for this – a chance to put into practice the ideas we’d
pursued over the previous few years.
So how did the Rhodesian Parachute Training School
begin to teach free-fall parachuting?
Sanctions had been imposed on rebel Rhodesia and we were unable to
obtain any information on how to conduct free fall training. These sanctions
also prevented the Rhodesian military from obtaining any sort of equipment,
including parachutes and parachute equipment of any kind. The only way we could
get this was through the various sanctions busting agencies operating in South
Africa. And of course, through our usual, ‘try it out and see,’ experimenting.
At this time there were only six staff members at PTS and it fell on us to test, not only methods of training, but also to develop the equipment used. In addition Boet, our boss, stated he would not be doing any Free Fall parachute jumps as he was returning to the Army.
With information, and equipment very difficult to obtain we had to use the people and parachutes we had available. Fortunately for us, staff member Frank Hales was an experienced skydiver with the local civilian skydiving club, and we turned to him for advice. This is why the only free fall method we knew was the civilian method. Take a recruit up to 2500 feet AGL and, with a static line to operate the parachute, get him to jump out of a light aircraft.
The student made a number of static line jumps until he could fall in a stable, face-to-earth position. A number of dummy ripcord pulls would ensue and, if the parachutist still remained stable, a five second delay before the actual ripcord pull was introduced. Once this stage was mastered, the student progressed until they could hold the stable position through the terminal velocity stage of the free fall. They were taught to turn in free fall and to recover from a spin. It was not the military way of doing things, but we had no other guidelines, and, in the beginning at least, training followed these few basic steps.
We soon found the PJIs could pass the first hurdle,
falling stable until terminal velocity was reached, after three free fall
jumps. After that it was just a matter of going higher and learning how to
judge the dispatch point to make an accurate return to the DZ.
In July 1969, I carried out the first stable freefall
exit using a static line X type double blank parachute from a Dakota aircraft.
We quickly worked out, this was dangerous. Further exits of this nature, using
military static line parachutes, immediately ceased.Why? When a free fall exit is made from a Dakota the parachutist turns to face forward with arms spread in order to obtain a stable position in the slipstream. Here a problem arose as the strop and static line pulled the parachute over the outspread right arm of the parachutist. The slightest mistake during this type of exit could result in the removal of an arm or even a head. From then on, military free fall parachute descents were only carried out by soldiers who had completed a basic static line course which meant their first free fall would be the real thing.
Although we never stopped looking for ways to improve safety and efficiency, our free fall training techniques were more-or-less sorted for the moment, so we turned our attention to equipment. Initially we obtained a number of free fall rigs which consisted mainly of brightly coloured civilian parachutes, usually with 28-foot modified canopies. Some had the double blank modification but some went a little further and had the TU configuration which was classed as the sports car of its day. These were adequate for trial purposes, but obviously we needed to select a parachute suitable for military use. And, due to sanctions, our options were fairly limited.
This photograph shows a multi coloured Para Commander Parachute and the many drive slots can be seen as well as the apex pull down which gives this parachute lift and a forward speed of approximately 18 km.p.h. The opening shock limited the suspended load to 13.5 kg. This parachute was coloured with red white and blue panels.
At the end of August 1969 a number of highly manoevrable parachutes were made available to PTS for trials. The Rhodesian Air Force obtained a number of brightly coloured Civilian Para Commander (PC) parachutes as well as a number of similarly styled Dominators, which were copies of the British Military Tactical Assault (TA)Parachute. Air Force HQ sent the PTS a signal ordering us to carry out 80 parachute jumps on each type and then submit a report detailing which parachute would best suit our needs for training and operations.
At this time there were only six PJIs on staff, and of
those six, only two were available to carry out these trials. These were Frank
Hales, the only free fall instructor, and myself, the Training Officer. Other
staff members were either on leave, training a course, or instructing the SAS
on the use of PT10 parachutes. Frank and I were about to become very busy.
For the trials we decided to alternate the parachutes
on each jump, whilst slowly increasing the weight carried. Notes would be
compared after each landing. The rifle would always be carried and the Bergen rucksack
would be loaded up as the jumps progressed. We were reasonably conservative
with our weights and started with 25 lbs (11.5 kg) and increased the load by 5 lbs (2.3 kg) on every
other jump. Frank would jump a PC with 25 lbs(11.5 kg) and I would jump a Dominator with
25 lbs(11.5 kg), then Frank would jump the Dominator with 25 lbs(11.5 kg) and I would jump the PC
with 25 lbs(11.5 kg). After each round the parachutes were returned to Safety Equipment
Section for inspection and repacking.
We didn’t know of any other way to carry out these
trials, but this seemed logical. Immediately apparent was the difference in the
opening shock of the two parachutes. The Para Commander parachute had a vicious
opening shock, and the heavier the loads carried, the harder the opening. The
Dominator remained relatively soft regardless of the weight loaded onto the
parachutist. When the weight of 45 lbs(20.5 kg) was reached Frank drew the short straw
and jumped the PC. The opening shock broke his collar bone. This decided the
winner. The Dominator, or as the military version was called, the Tactical
Assault Parachute (TA), was the obvious choice for the Rhodesian Military.
Our report was written and sent to Air HQ. But we had
not carried out the 80 jumps on each parachute as stipulated in the original
signal. PTS instructors, it was decided, were not only silly in the head but
did not carry out orders either. We took our kick in the behind and proceeded
to carry out our orders and do the 80 jumps on each parachute which made no
difference to the eventual outcome.
It was the TA we wanted – and eventually we received
the SAVIAC from South Africa which was a copy. All the PJIs were used to carry
out these trials, except Frank with his broken collar bone. We decided the PC
could be used but was restricted to a maximum suspended load of 30 lbs (13.5 kg). The TA
was eventually tried by me, with a suspended load of 194 lbs (88 kg) from 20,000 feet and,
on later operations, many of the loads carried by the HALO jumpers were in the
region of 150 lbs to 160 lbs (70 kg to 80 kg).
We didn’t realise it at the time, but there was a
design fault in the deployment of the TA canopy from the sleeve in which it was
stowed. When the ripcord on the TA was pulled, the outer pack was pulled open,
with elastic bands exposing a spring loaded pilot chute which would then pull
the sleeve off the parachutist’s back. This, in turn, would allow the rigging
lines to deploy and open the bottom of the sleeve, allowing the canopy to come
out and inflate.
However, a
problem manifested when the canopy slumped to the bottom of the sleeve, causing
a frightening number of malfunctions. This resulted in far too many jettisons
of the main canopy (called a cut away) and a much faster ride to Mother Earth
on the 24 ft(7.4 mt) reserve parachute. A cure had to be found quickly. All available
staff at PTS were called in to give their opinions, and until a remedy was
found all TA jumps were very nervous ones .
We needed to resolve the cause of these canopy slump malfunctions ASAP. A decision was made to sew a small tab onto the top of the parachute canopy, and a similar tab onto the inside of the sleeve. These two tabs were then tied together with double #.18 thread which had a breaking strain of approximately 8.5 kg, during the packing procedure. We figured the pilot chute would have a greater pull than the 17 kg required to break the tie, allowing the canopy to deploy. It would still be strong enough to hold the canopy up preventing the slump.
We then had to sell this idea to the Safety Equipment Section, who repaired and repacked all our parachutes. These very able technicians were not only responsible for our parachutes, but also the safety equipment on all our Air Force aircraft, including ejection seats. They had their rules and manuals to adhere to and the modification PTS asked them to make was way outside their protocols.
At this time the Safety Equipment Section came under the Armaments Empire of the Air Force. Before any modifications could be made they had to be cleared by the staff at Air Headquarters who knew absolutely nothing about parachutes.
It took a number of phone calls and signals to finally
convince the appropriate people we were not insane but had, in fact, given the
malfunction problem a lot of thought. The modification was carried out on one
parachute and was tested the only way we could, by jumping it.
Because it gave the most drag on the pilot chute, we first trialed it, a number of times, at terminal velocity. The #.18 thread was easily broken and the TA parachute deployed perfectly on every jump, much to the delight of PTS staff, especially me as I was the crash-test dummy. However the real moment of truth would be to see if it worked after a short delay of two seconds, known as a 'hop and pop'. This was the real nail-biter as there was very little drag on the pilot chute. Needless to say it worked perfectly and all the TA parachutes were subsequently modified.
The staff at PTS often wondered if the British had
similar problems and if they had solved them in the same way.
While the PJIs were teaching themselves how to do military High Altitude Low Opening (HALO) parachute jumps, they also carried out a number of experiments to see the effects on the local population in the tribal areas. It was whilst doing this we came to a surprising conclusion regarding the colour of our parachutes.
On one occasion the PJIs did a HALO jump over a farm workers’ village at lunch time, whilst the families were having their midday meals. It was a very clear day and the drop was from 15,000 feet AGL, about 20,000 feet ASL. Two PJIs jumped with rifles, radios and a suspended load, one on an all-white TA and the other with the small load on a multi-coloured, very bright PC.
As expected, when the parachutes opened above the village the noise caused the villagers to look up. However, they saw only one parachute: the plain-coloured white TA. The multi-coloured, very bright PC was a complete surprise when it, and the PJI it carried, arrived in their midst. This was a lesson - if the parachutists wished to remain clandestine during the day, especially in clear conditions, they should pull high and use multi-coloured canopies. Military parachutes always seem to be khaki, which blends in on the ground but can be seen in the sky, even at night.
Whilst the multi-coloured parachutes were best for day-time clandestine ops, we also discovered it is nearly impossible to see a white canopy against the sky at night. In Rhodesia our original X type parachutes all had white canopies and could not be seen in the night sky. In fact, I was very nearly hit, whilst standing on the ground, by parachutists doing their night training jump on a number of occasions.
With parachute chosen, and modifications made, we turned out attention to the other equipment we needed. For example, the only altimeters available to us were of the aircraft type but, by removing the 100-foot pointer, they were very satisfactory to our needs.
As usual, we were concerned not only with the safety
of the paratrooper,but,also with his ability to get on with his job, as soon
as after he landed as possible. For this to happen, it was vital soldiers had
ready access to their weapon – not as simple as it sounds.
It seems ludicrous for free fall parachutists to be
loaded with equipment after only their sixth jump, but by 1969, the PJIs in
Rhodesia were very experienced military parachutists, all had done more than
300 jumps.
The first thing we learned to carry was the 7.62 mm F.N. rifle, which was done in much the same way as when using the PT10 parachute. The only difference was it was carried on the left hand side instead of the right. The reason for the change was that as the parachute ripcord was situated on the right hand side we wanted to avoid soldiers from attempting pulling the rifle instead of the ripcord.
Once carrying the rifle was mastered, it was time to
start with the Bergen rucksack. At first we tried carrying a small pack under
the reserve. This worked okay, but would be insufficient for an operational
soldier. So we played around and came up with the idea of carrying a Bergen
behind the knees, with the legs through the carrying straps and connected to
the lower D rings with the standard suspension hooks. The hooks had an elastic
band wrapped around them to hold the release levers in place during the free
fall. The idea worked well and by the eighth FF jump the PJIs were competent
with the carrying of rifle and suspended loads.
We were now also doing jumps from a higher altitude,
14000 feet to 15000 feet ASL and, although we were unable to remain at those
altitudes for very long. It soon became evident we would need to equip the
Dakota with oxygen to enable the parachutists to jump at this level.
As a trained Aircraft Instrument Fitter, I was well
aware of the consequences of a lack of oxygen at altitudes above 12,000 feet
ASL, especially if it was for an extended time. We arranged to have all PJIs go
through the Air Force decompression chamber to see for themselves the effect of
a lack of oxygen.
The first signs of hypoxia, or lack of sufficient
oxygen in the bloodstream, are the same as drunkenness. Some start to sing,
others to fall asleep, whilst others become very garrulous and talk
nonsense. A lack of oxygen even gives the victim a hangover complete with
a headache.
The oxygen problem was more or less solved by
borrowing portable oxygen sets from station sick quarters at New Sarum whenever
we needed them, which later meant that PTS kept them permanently. The troops
held masks to their faces and breathed normally. It was the PJI’s job to ensure
the troops did not suffer oxygen deprivation, and to check the troops, the
pilots, and the despatcher for any signs of hypoxia.
We also listened in on the pilots up front over the
intercom. If the pilots had suddenly started to sing or act foolishly we would
have rushed into the cockpit and given them oxygen. We never had to deal with
any pilots requiring our assistance as they were all very competent men who
knew what to expect when flying high.
There were insufficient small emergency oxygen bottles to provide the HALO sticks with oxygen during the freefall part of their descent, so we had the men breathing oxygen in the aircraft until they were brought to the action stations. At this point they would cast their masks aside and move to the door, as it would only be a matter of seconds before they were on their way. This method worked well for a large number of HALO operations, which took place, many a very long way from home over terrorist inhabited country
This Photograph is one of Derek de Kock with the large Bell and Howell clockwork 16 mm camera bolted to the bone dome on his head taking a shot of the next PJI about to exit the Dakota about 12000 ft ASL with approximately 40 sec of film time. The PJI about to exit is wearing a bone dome with an oxygen mask attached which he has used to communicate with the pilot and giving instructions on where to fly. He would have disconnected from the intercom just prior to despatching me and then jumping himself.
Another piece of equipment we played around with was the camera as it was also at this time we started to make a film for freefall instructional purposes. The only one we could get was a 16 mm Bell and Howell with a large three lens turret housing a wide angle, normal and telephoto lenses.
This camera was bolted onto a “bone dome” and a suitable site was made from a piece of wire with a circle and a cross, positioned in front of the eyeball. The lens of the camera was then focused in the same direction as this site. With this clockwork driven camera fully wound, we had approximately 40 seconds of filming time. This camera weighed in excess of 4 kg and it was almost impossible to stand up after hitting the ground with it bolted to one’s head. We were still using PC parachutes at this time, and the opening shock with this extra weight was horrendous.
The technique to minimally reduce the whiplash when jumping with this contraption was to pull the ripcord, grab one’s head with both hands and, jamb one’s elbows onto the reserve parachute. The whiplash was then not quite so severe. On one occasion I was concentrating on Ralph Moore so much I forgot to grab my head when I pulled the ripcord. My chin slammed onto my altimeter, which was positioned on top of my reserve around about my bellybutton. I saw stars, wound up with a bleeding chin and still have the scar. Thereafter I strapped the altimeter onto my left wrist. Some of the film shot with this camera was later used in a movie about the SAS and was shown in cinemas all over Rhodesia and can still be viewed on YouTube.
The PTS staff soon acquired the necessary skills to
carry out HALO parachute jumps themselves, including the ability to direct the
skipper of the aircraft to the despatch point, to allow for wind during the
free fall, and to estimate the distance required for the parachutists to arrive
on target. Now it was time to organize a
suitable training programme so “Pathfinder Sticks” of SAS could be trained.
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