ODE TO THE DC3 DAKOTA GOONEY BIRD, VOMIT COMMIT. CLOUD SEEDER RAIN MAKER ETC

This photograph of  six 3 Squadron Dakota/C47 aircraft flying in a beautiful formation. We often flew in threes and on occasion there would be 4 Goonie Birds in a tight formation but it was rare to have six as in this photograph by Kevin Milligan.

For the last few weeks I have been harping on about my favourite aircraft – the unbeatable Dakota or DC3. As far as the PTS was concerned, this was the ultimate aircraft from which to parachute. As far as the Rhodesian Airforce was concerned, it was reliable, hardy, and a most versatile machine. It could be used for any number of tasks from dropping supplies and men, troop transportation, the occasional bombing, search and rescue, reconnaissance, sky shout with big speakers and, at times even VIP transport. As mentioned in the previous chapter our limited number of Dakotas, (8 in all) were called on to do all types of work in all conditions and rarely let us down.

 For the statistic geeks out there, here are a few stats:

Wing Span  95ft 5inches. Unless about one foot was cut off the port wing tip after hitting a tree on take-off. Then it was a bit shorter.

 Length  63ft 9inches

 Height 17ft

 Top Speed, when being shot at, about 215kts

 Normal Cruise 150kts. Or, if flying for endurance, 85kts to 90kts?

Parachute Drop Speed For early static line drops at 1000ft AGL, we flew at 70kts to 80kts with half flap.  From 1970 onwards, drop speed increased to a minimum of 95kts with half flap, and drop height reduced to 400ft to 500ft AGL.

Stall Speed 50kts as observed by me in 1960, on an air test after a routine service.

 Normal Take Off Speed, 80kts, which was the minimum speed required for aircraft handling if there was an engine failure during the take-off. On very short airfields sometimes pilots would select a quarter-flap and drag the Dakota off the ground at just 65kts.

Once, on a parachuting sortie which took off from Perrims airstrip just outside Umtali, we had a full load of 20 paratroops, all with suspended loads. This made for a heavy take-off on a very short grass strip. I was on-board to select the DZ from the cockpit, and stood between the two pilots during take-off. I watched the airspeed indicator move…. very, very slowly – too damn slowly for my liking. The trees at the end of the strip seemed to loom bigger and closer and higher and yet we were still on the ground. It seemed impossible that we would avoid them.

I should have had more faith. Just as it appeared we were certain to crash, the Skipper, in a firm voice, called for a quarter flap. The second pilot reached for the appropriate lever and, as a quarter- flap went down, we seemed to lift straight up. It was an amazing sensation and, in the end, we cleared the trees by a good margin. Looking back at the airspeed indicator I saw it was reading just over the 65kt mark. The skipper let out a big sigh. So did I. The troops in the back were none the wiser.

  Normal Landing Speed  80kts. But if the strip was short this was reduced to much slower speeds around 60kts to 70kts.

 On one occasion, when Jerry Dunn was driving the Dakota, we arrived over our destination airfield approximately 5000 feet above the end of the runway. Jerry said, “Do you reckon I can get this thing on the ground without having to go round?” Looking through the front windscreen it just did not seem possible, “Never,” I said, confidently, “The only way you could get anything down from this altitude without going round would be by parachute.”

Challenge accepted! He shut everything off, selected full flaps and somehow, like magic, the old Dakota seemed to go down vertically. The airspeed never went above about 80kts. Just as we were about to peg ourselves into the dirt short of the runway, Jerry hauled back on the stick and very gently touched down in what would be called a greaser now days. He stood on the brakes and we came to a stop in about 300mts.

I thoroughly enjoyed the experience, but the passengers in the back? Not so much. They probably thought their last days had arrived. This was a slick demonstration of the method developed by 3 Sqn pilots for landings on short grass strips out in the bush. It was an incredible display of flying skill and an indication of the wonderful flying qualities of the aircraft we jumped from, especially when flown by an expert

Normal Training Free Fall drop heights : In the early days it was about 8000ft AGL at Salisbury Airport .This meant we were actually jumping from a height of 13000ft ASL, because Salisbury Airport  (Harare) is 4896ftASL.  On occasion we would sneak it up to 15000ft ASL or 10000ft AGL to give the PJIs and the trainees a delay for as long as possible without the need for oxygen. This would allow us to free fall for up to an exhilirating 50secs and enabled the students to learn how to fall in a stable position. So yes, we occasionally broke the rules, but only for short periods and only as a carefully managed risk.

The pilots always tried to beat us to the ground by carrying out the maximum rate of descent and short landing previously described. They often did get there first, as we had to operate our parachutes at 2500ft AGL. The Dakota would then taxi down to the end of runway 32, which was also our DZ, to pick up the next load. On occasions the pilots would have time to scrounge a cup of tea from the DZ team whilst they waited for the trainees to fit new parachutes for their next jump. It was sometimes very stressful but always friendly.

Service Ceiling The original specification showed it to be 24000ft ASL. During the Rhodesian Bush War this height was exceeded during HALO parachuting operations. On a number of occasions troops were dropped from 26000ft ASL and on one occasion the PJIs jumped out at 28000ft ASL just to make sure we held the record in Rhodesia.

 Range According to the official specifications for the Dakota/ C47 aircraft, the maximum range was 1000 nautical miles. With full tanks the pilots would tell the tower prior to take off that there was X passengers and X crew on board with seven and a half hours endurance, but on a search and rescue mission we only landed after nine and a half hours in the air and still had two hours of fuel in the tanks. It was incredible what could be done with this aircraft when flown for endurance. 

In the early days only one of our Dakotas was fitted out for the parachuting role at a time. When this aircraft was pulled offline for servicing and a different one converted to the parachuting role, a comprehensive check was carried out.

Later in the war, every Dakota aircraft was fitted for the parachuting role. The technicians on 3 Squadron modified all the aircraft so it was easy to change from freighter to passenger to parachuting at very short notice without any major modifications. but before every parachuting sortie, the number 1 dispatcher checked the aircraft to ensure all necessary equipment was on board and in a serviceable condition.

 To do this, the following modifications were made.  When the X type parachute was used, the aircraft was fitted with a cable to which 25 strops were attached. This cable was run down the starboard side of the cabin. Prior to every parachuting sortie, each and every strop was inspected then folded in a special way, and held in place with elastic bands. In the early days the parachuting door handles were masked to prevent the parachutist putting his hand behind the handle. This masking was checked on every flight to ensure no poor unfortunate could accidentally amputate his hand when leaving the aircraft. It is amazing what we used duct tape for in the parachute training school, from masking door handles to covering bullet holes.

 On the Dakota tail wheel there were two small bobbins on the axel used for towing the aircraft. These were also masked to prevent a parachute becoming hooked up. A gaiter was also fitted around the tail wheel assembly for the same reason.Again if the correct covers were not available duct tape or as we called it 100mph tape was used.

The cables inside the cabin were attached to strong points on front and rear bulkheads and these were visually and physically checked before each parachuting flight. Two other items also had to be checked prior to take off: the red and green jump lights, and the intercom, which were usually checked with the pilots as they were taxiing out for take-off.

 At first the aircraft were fitted with canvas-type seating. This was inclined to collapse and was not very satisfactory. As part of the aircraft drill the students were taught to fold these seats out of the way, a tedious process, especially if the aircraft was flying through turbulence. Later this seating was removed and replaced with far superior fibre glass or aluminium seats which could be folded away with ease. The reason for folding the seats against the side of the cabin was supposedly to provide more room for the troops about to jump. In practice this did not often happen. In reality it gave the number 2 and number 3 dispatchers a path to clamber up the cabin to check the troops’ parachutes, suspended loads and other equipment. If full loads were carried it was always a very tight squeeze.

 Another piece of equipment carried in the aircraft, at least in the early days, was a block and tackle in case a parachutist was hung up outside, dangling on the end of the static lines. This never happened, but if it did we would have cut the static line and enabled the parachutist to use his reserve. The drills for this contraption were complicated and never practiced. So I’m thankful we never had to put it into practice.

 However we did get a HUPRA (hung-up parachutist release assembly) and the UT/PJIs and dispatchers were shown how to use this. This piece of equipment was 
basically another parachute with a cable instead of a harness and a strong point lug fixed to the aircraft floor .The HUPRA cable was threaded through all the hooks on the overhead cable and secured with a special connector. Its static line was then secured to a strong point on the floor.

In the mean-time the pilots would have been told by the no.1 dispatcher/PJI that they had a hang up, and asked to climb to 3000 feet and make another pass over the DZ. At the appropriate moment, the skipper would turn on the green light and the overhead cable would be severed with bolt cutters. All the static lines would have gone out of the door, but on the end there was a new parachute, which in theory, would enable the parachutist to arrive on the ground hale and hearty.

 Again, we never had to use this device, although on one occasion it came uncomfortably close. An RLI soldier was hung up for a short period when his static line passed between the lift webs of his parachute to the overhead cable. It was nail-biting, but before the HUPRA could be used, the parachute came clear and the soldier landed in the dog section at New Sarum. The soldier’s only injury was a minor dog bite. However, this close call guaranteed all the staff at PTS made absolutely certain the static lines were always connected to the overhead cables correctly, every time.

We also carried a spare reserve parachute. The reason for this was in case a reserve rip cord was accidently pulled when it got hooked on a piece of equipment. This only happened once or twice and on each occasion it was on an operational sortie. A quick response by the dispatchers, who smothered the canopy and gave the parachutist the spare reserve, prevented catastrophe.

On some operational sorties a box of additional ammunition and a box of tinned water were carried and could be dropped using a supply drop parachute obtained from No 3 Air Supply Platoon.

The unsung heroes of the Rhodesian Bush War were the men of 3ASP – they were commanded my Major Tom Gentleman, a true gentleman by both name and nature. The Parachute Training School were always happy to work closely with these men who did fantastic work in the airborne resupply field. On many occasions we were required to drop 44 gallon drums of fuel for the choppers and the PJIs would give whatever assistance was needed to 3ASP .

This beautiful photograph of a Rhodesian Air Force Dakota heading out on a parachuting sortie and flying into the evening dusk. It clearly shows the anti Strella (Heat seeking anti aircraft missile) fitted to the engine exhausts. They must have worked I am still here.

So, to end my ode to the Dakota DC3, a very brief history. This fixed wing, propeller driven plane, was developed during the 1930s and 1940s. Its speed, ability to take-off from short air-strips, carrying capacity and range, made it a revolutionary development in both military and civilian air-travel. It was the first commercial airliner to cross the United States, and made the concept of long-distance air travel economically viable for the first time. During WWII, this rugged little plane was put to great use, often pressed above and beyond specified limitations, it played a crucial part in the Allied victory. We certainly could not have performed the paratroop role we did without this remarkable machine and the skilled pilots who flew them.   

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

CHAPTER 33 DAKOTA DOWN

This picture of a Dakota DC3 aircraft shows the various roundels which decorated its wings and fuselage over the years of its service from 1954 until 1980 when it changed for the last time to become the Zimbabwe Air Force. During my service with the Rhodesian Air Force I saw all the changes that took place including the change to Zimbabwe. I was privileged to service these wonderful aircraft as a Cpl/Tec in 3Sqn  I jumped out of them as a Sgt PJI and later as the CO of the Parachute Training School I flew in them up to impossible heights and also just above the trees. I fired my rifle out of them and dropped grenades and bombs out of them. I was shot at on numerous occasions and the aircraft I was in was on occasion ventilated but it always brought me home. 

After two civilian Viscounts were shot down by ZIPRA terrorists, the Rhodesian Dakotas , had anti Strella/ SAM 7 exhaust shrouds fitted and were also painted with a special, anti-heat-seeking missile paint. These modifications did not affect the performance at all and must have worked because no Rhodesian Dakota/C47 aircraft were shot down with these heat-seeking missiles. Unfortunately, that is not to say we went through the Bush war unscathed.

May 31^st, 1977, a large quantity of enemy arms, ammunition, and equipment was discovered by the RLI and Selous Scouts near Mapai – across the border in Mozambique. Operation Aztec was launched to recover this valuable horde via our trusty old Dakota.

This meant the Dakota on Fire Force duty at Buffalo Range FAF7, flew into Mapai airstrip, loaded up the goodies, and flew them back to FAF7. On the third trip of the day, the Dakota, with Flt/Lt Jerry Lynch as the Skipper, Flt/Lt Bruce Collocott as 2^nd Pilot, and Sgt Russell Wantenaar as Engineer, landed after dark, with the aid of truck lights shining on the threshold and some Megablitz strobe lights marking the runway. Also on board for the inbound trip were a few demolition experts who would use their toys to destroy the terrorist base at Mapai. The Dakota flew in at tree top height which was not usual when flying over enemy country.  

After the Dakota was loaded up to the roof with the retrieved arms and ammunition, it was time to head for home. Jerry Lynch decided to execute a short take- off and applied full power on brakes. After brake- release he lifted off at 65kts with a quarter- flap selected. As the Dakota became airborne and was no more than ten feet into the air, machinegun fire hit the cockpit and an RPG7 hit the starboard engine which stopped abruptly.

Bruce Collocott was killed instantly and slumped sideways onto Jerry’s lap and the cockpit ignited in flames from burning hydraulic oil. Jerry had no option but to cut power to the port engine and dump the aircraft back onto the ground.

As soon as the aircraft came to rest, Jerry and Russell vacated and dashed for cover in the trees. The Dakota continued to burn aided by the large quantity of ammunition and explosives on board. It was a complete loss.

This Dakota was the one given to Rhodesia by General Smuts and was the first aircraft I’d flown in. It was a very sad day, deeply felt by all the staff of PTS, not only for the loss of a great aircraft but more importantly, for the loss of a great pilot and very good friend, Bruce Collocott.

There was another unfortunate incident during a resupply operation in the low veld. On this occasion, it is amazing that even some of the people on board this Dakota survived. A Dakota, skippered by Peter Barnett, took off from Buffalo Range on a resupply mission into Mozambique. Peter had at one time been the CO of 3 Sqn and was a very experienced Dakota captain who’d retired from the Rhodesian Air Force and joined the Volunteer Reserve.

They were resupplying food, water and ammunition to call signs deep in the sticks. The drop took place without incident and, on return to Buffalo Range, the four dispatchers from 3 Air Supply Platoon did their usual thing and crowded up the front of the aircraft to look out the windscreen. As per usual, the aircraft flew at very low altitude, so low, in fact, that the irrigation sprays from the wheat fields came into the door of the aircraft.

 Unfortunately, the aircraft hit a cable which rose over the nose of the Dakota and killed both pilots and one dispatcher instantly. The Dakota came to a grinding, shuddering halt straight ahead. Miraculously the three remaining dispatchers in the back walked off, unsettled, but uninjured. The aircraft was recovered, repaired, and flew again. It was a very sad day in PTS as we lost two of our superb 3 Sqn pilots and a 3 Air Supply Platoon dispatcher who were also our friends.

 On all the thousands of parachuting sorties done from Dakota Aircraft we were let down by mechanical failure during flight on only one occasion. This was during an early morning training jump over our DZ at Salisbury Airport’s 32 run-way.

 It was a Basic Static Line course final jump, at 500ft AGL, with full battle equipment. As soon as the last man left the aircraft and the bags were retrieved, the pilot opened the throttles and started our climb for the PJIs to do a demonstration free fall.  Spectators were assembled to witness their loved ones being presented with their Wings and we were keen to strut our stuff in front of an enthusiastic crowd of admirers. As the power increased there was a sudden, loud bang from the port engine and it began to make all sorts of strange and frightening noises. The engine was immediately feathered and it became very busy on the flight deck.

 When things calmed down up front I asked the Skipper if we should abandon him and his now, obviously, (at least to us,) unserviceable, aeroplane. His reply was unprintable, but he advised us to look outside first.  We looked. Hmmm! On wise reflection, we decided to stay with the broken Dakota. It was now flying pretty well on one engine, and was on finals to do an isometric (one engine) landing. We, on the other hand, were just a little too close to the hard stuff for our parachutes to work properly. We decided to forego the jump and check out how our pilot performed instead.

 After landing, the towing tractor dragged us, unceremoniously, backwards to the New Sarum 3 Sqn hard standings.  Despite the absence of the staff demo, the crowd were most pleased with the show. After all, it included a Dakota making a funny noise, then doing a one engine landing and finally being dragged backwards by a tractor! We made out it was all in a day’s work.

On another occasion, we returned to FAF7 Buffalo Range for a change-over of Fire Force. The Dakota was loaded with used parachutes and a number of troopies, for a flight back to New Sarum. Most of the men were sent home by road – a long, slow, and uncomfortable trip. This meant we, the lucky few on board, should arrive home sooner after a comparatively quick and comfortable flight. It was Friday and everyone was looking forward to a weekend enjoying the bright lights of Salisbury.

 With all aboard the pilots went through their elastic band wind-up procedure. But there was a problem. The port engine starter motor gave up the ghost, and, even after the Tech pulled off the odd inspection panel and applied a little persuasive encouragement with a blunt instrument, the engine still refused to start.

This is an unusual photograph showing a formation of 3 Dakota's dropping sticks of paratroops over a parched Rhodesian landscape. This was a training exercise before the drop heights were reduced to 500ft AGL. During the bush war we never dropped simultaneous sticks from 3 Dakota's flying in line abreast formation on any operational sortie as far as I can Remember

We all had thoughts of spending the weekend in the bar at FAF 7, drowning our sorrows, whilst we waited, most likely a long, boring time, for a spare starter motor to be flown down to us from New Sarum. How the tables had turned. Now we were the chumps and the troops on the road convoy had a good laugh at our expense.

However all was not lost! The clever Tech trotted off to a shed and returned with a long piece of 25mm diameter rope. He grabbed a ladder, and, with the words, “Oh ye of little faith,” proceeded to wrap one end of the rope around the propeller boss. The Tech instructed the pilot to manage the necessary starting procedure and told the troops, now standing outside the aircraft, to grab the rope.

The troops pulled together on the count of three, making sure to pull the rope in a straight line. On the first attempt the rope broke at the engine end. We began to think this was a fool’s errand. Nevertheless, the rope was soon fixed, and rewound. Once more, the pull was under way.  Yes! The engine sputtered and wheezed and started! It worked and we were soon on our flight home for the weekend, arriving at New Sarum many hours before the troops in the road convoy. Suckers! Our trusty Dakota was such a reliable work-horse, it would never let us down.

Considering our limited number of aircraft, the difficulty getting spare parts, the number of missions, and parachute training flights, rescue missions, and sorties undertaken, our Dakotas were involved in an extraordinarily small number of incidents. This is a testament to the quality, not only of the Dakota itself, but also to the outstanding men who fixed them, the men who flew them, and the men who flew in them. 

KEVIN MILLIGAN'S STORY Part 4

This is a photograph of a South African Air Force Lockheed C130 Hercules Air Craft similar to the one used by the Rhodesian SAS and the Rhodesian Air Force Parachute Training School in the execution of Op Cheese. This resulted in the destruction of the road and rail bridges across the Chambeshi river in far North Zambia. 

At 2330hrs Major Gardner brought his four turbo prop engines up to full power, moved swiftly down the runway and lifted off. Phase Two was underway.

The winds were calm and we had a decent moon. The route into the bridges was made at 28 000ft. The aircraft was pressurised so there was no need for oxygen sets. The guys, in their terrorist "greens", faces and hands darkened with cam cream, some with RPD light machine guns, some with AK47's, sat quietly, some dozing, as we flew North.

Sgt Major Paul Fisher with the demolitions team, thoughtfully removed and cleaned his glasses. Sgt Vossy Vosloo looked relaxed. Little did he know that he was to play a key part in the success of the operation a while later. As we flew on, I began to think about a time a few years before when I was working on a mine on the Zambian Copper belt. I had formed a skydiving club and we used to fly to different towns in Zambia to do display jumps into Trade Fairs and Agricultural Shows. In fact, once when we were jumping into Ndola Trade Fair, we kept Kenneth Kaunda waiting for ten minutes as we flew to the arena. It was a timing mistake on the part of the organisers and as they realised their error they frantically tried to contact us to bring the timings forward. We could not fly there any quicker and there was not enough time to bring another show into the arena so the President twiddled his thumbs. The jump went very well but not many guys can say they they kept a President waiting. A dubious honour. I never could have dreamt then that I would be flying back into Zambia on a mission like this. My reminiscences were interrupted when one of the dispatchers came over and informed me that we were to begin our descent to low level. The pilot began a rapid descent and then the aircraft was depressurised as we levelled out. Paul Fisher's glasses misted over and he cleaned them yet again. Bob looked my way and I gave him the thumbs up. He gave me a nod and his big smile as we gave the command to stand up and check equipment. They carried out their drills and the despatchers opened the para doors. We could smell the African night air as we took up our positions in the door. Down below I could vaguely see the dark outline of the bush as we approached the DZ. I remembered being shot at on several occasions such as this and thought if just one stray round were to strike the dets we would all be history. (Stan has told me since that the dets would have been carried by the Paras well clear of the explosives.) Fortunately all was very quiet on the ground. Grahame had comms with Major Gardner and directed us in. The red came on and the first men on each side took up their stand in the door positions. They did not know what lay ahead but no matter what they were determined to give it their best shot. The green came on and I yelled out for Bob to "Go and 2 and 3 and 4 and 5... until the stick was gone. We hauled in the static lines and trailing bags as the aircraft pulled away. A short while later, Grahame came up on the radio and informed Major Gardner that the drop had gone well. He requested us to orbit whilst the paras cleared the DZ before we dropped in the pallets. We made a wide orbit and the ramp was lowered. The load masters busied themselves with the final preparations as Grahame talked us in at 600ft. The aircraft quickly reacted to his corrections and then steadied on target. As we reached his planned exit point he called for the green light. It came on and the load masters sent the four pallets thundering down the rollers and over the tailgate. The parachutes streamed out and as they landed in a tight group on the DZ, Grahame radioed that the drop was spot on. The aircraft climbed away, returning to Fylde. I felt as happy as a dog with two tails. Everything had gone incredibly smoothly, after all the tribulations. Now it was up to the SAS. I knew that they would succeed no matter what the odds. These very men had been through it all before when on Operation Uric they had destroyed the bridges at Barragem.

We landed at 0300 hrs and bedded down in our vehicle for the remainder of the night. I slept so well only to be awakened by Mike much later. It was already well into the morning and the C130 would be returning to S. Africa. We had of course taken the precaution of bringing our parachutes with us. We said our very grateful thanks to all the crew and then boarded with them. Major Gardner, obliging as always, climbed out to 8000ft then turned in over Flyde. Mike and I were like two little boys, so excited were we as we launched ourselves off the ramp for a lovely skydive. It was the perfect way to round off our part in the operation.

Of course for Major Wilson and his intrepid bunch it was only just beginning.

I was to hear their story later. After the assault party had RV'd with Grahame they gathered in all their kit. A pit was being dug to bury the pallets and parachutes when a bush fire, which had been started by hunters to flush out game, swept their way. After the hunters moved on, there was a scramble to get the explosives and kit clear but, they let it destroy the parachutes and pallets. They then moved down to the river and began their paddle in six very heavily loaded canoes and the Zodiac. The current was stronger than anticipated and the going was heavy. They laid up before first light, hiding their boats under the the heavy bush lining the bank. The next night was the most troublesome as they continued upstream towards their goal. The river narrowed and they had to paddle with all their strength to make any headway through the rock strewn rapids. The going was very difficult and progress was slow. The canoeists were giving it their all as they dug their paddles in and pulled with all their strength. It was energy sapping, there was a long way to go through the night and they were wishing that they were in the Zodiac with its silenced 15hp motor. Bob McKenzie and his team of 3 in the boat were however, having their own problems. The Zodiac, heavily laden like the canoes, was extremely low in the water and was responding like a drunken whale as it ploughed on. The craft was being rocked and bounced as it struggled through the rapids until, finally, they found themselves spinning out of control and carried downstream for some distance. They tried again in vain. Bob as a last resort, had to make the very painful decision to jettison some of the special explosive charges. They still would have enough to destroy the main piers of the bridges. On the third attempt they succeeded in breaching the rushing waters.

Then to, compound the situation, ,just as they were congratulating themselves on making it through the rapids, the motor cut out. They had just switched over to the last fuel tank. The fuel was contaminated with water. They made it to the river bank whilst Grahame and his "cockle shell heroes" paddled on, oblivious to the drama unfolding behind them. Bob knew the situation was critical. How could they get the charges to the bridges. Sgt Vosloo came to the rescue. In true adept SAS fashion, he stripped and cleaned the carburretor. He then drained the valuable uncontaminated fuel from the top of the tank. They crossed fingers, tried the starter and the motor sputtered into life. They got underway again. Vossy was the hero of the moment!

That seemed to spell the end of their troubles.

By the night of the 10 October they had laid up just a short distance from the bridges. They could hear the traffic passing over. Grahame and Bob reviewed the respective tasks with the team. Everyman knew what was expected of him. Darkness fell and after waiting for a couple of hours for activity to quieten down, they set off. It was raining and stormy. Just as they approached the bridges there was a brilliant flash of lightning. The whole scene was immediately bathed in bright light, revealing the giant Rail Bridge before them in all it's detail. It was a sight they will not forget.

Paul French recalls:

"Then as we made our final turn on the river, about 300m from the bridges, a huge bolt of lightning lit the sky illuminating the canoes in front and the bridges, with spray on the paddles, seemingly frozen in time."

Luckily, it did not prompt any adverse reaction and they pressed on.

Upon reaching the bridges, there was a myriad of tasks to be performed and each call sign set about it with the perfection that comes from a well rehearsed plan. Charges were set on both bridges. Paul Fisher and his small team placed their Semtex(PE4) cutting charges on the steel bridge. Bob and his team set about their well rehearsed but no less difficult job of securing the special charges to the bridges. The circuits from the charges were then set up to the two ring mains. Nothing was left to chance and where possible systems duplicated. There were two separate initiation sets. There had been many rehearsals as to the laying of the explosives with who did what, where and in what sequence being carefully worked out. As is normal with Special Forces operatives, any demolitions trained man who could contribute ideas was welcome. The plan was massaged for a long time before it was finalised. Lt Phil Cook and his men, whose task it was to protect the men whilst they set the demolitions and to hijack the getaway vehicle, set about their business. There was short exchange of shots with a policemen who came to investigate before he ran off into the night. A police roadblock sign, which they brought with them was set up. Vehicles were allowed to pass until finally a suitable 20 ton truck loaded with fertiliser was stopped. It was being driven by a White man of Irish descent accompanied by his African co driver. It would be ideal for the getaway. The roadblock sign was replaced with breakdown triangles so that other vehicles would proceed, but a similar truck pulled up to render help to the "breakdown". Just then a truck which had passed to the South previously, returned to the bridge. He was the brother of the truck driver who had been hijacked. It transpired that it was custom to travel in convoy and render each other support when need be. He refused to leave his brother, as did the other truck driver. Yet another truck was pulling up, another brother. To complicate the situation even further they were accompanied by a ten year old boy and his pal, who was coming along as part of a birthday treat. Was he in for a treat! It was becoming like something from a theatrical farce as by this time Phil had 3 trucks pulled over, three White drivers, two African co drivers and two young boys. Whilst all this was going on the SAS were frantically working against time to set all the charges. Grahame was not amused. All of a sudden he had a whole group of prisoners he had not bargained for. He could not leave them behind to relate who had been responsible and unlike the movies, he could not dispose of them. They would have to come with but COMOPS were not going to be at all happy. He ordered the fertiliser bags to be dumped from the centre of the truck and then, when all was ready, the SAS, prisoners, boats, canoes and equipment were loaded inside. It was a perfect hideaway with all round protection.

One of the captured brothers climbed up into the cab, as well as Bob McKenzie and Grahame complete with silenced pistol. One can only imagine what the drivers were thinking.

At 1225hrs, the charges were initiated and the truck et al moved rapidly South. The driver was very co operative as they sped South, past Chambeshi without incident. They stopped 20kms from the bridge and 2 men busied themselves cutting telephone wires. Just as they finished their job, there was an almighty flash and a following blast. The SAS knew they had achieved their mission and would have given anything to see the effect of their intense efforts of the preceding days. They were joyous as they sped towards Mpika. It was a likely trouble spot but the driver guided them around the by pass road. As daylight came they they turned off the main highway onto a dirt road leading into Luangwa Valley National Park and South towards to the Rhodesian border. Grahame ordered a halt. The Blues had dispatched a Canberra to the bridges at first light to asses the damage. Paul French established comms with HQ. who flashed back the code word for 100% success. They now knew that the mission had been a great success. The bridges were destroyed. The demolitions plan had worked beautifully. It only remained to get every one out.

They pressed on but their route took them through a heavily populated area, which had not been anticipated, but fortunately without incident. Things went well until, unexpectedly, they rounded onto a Power Station dead ahead. They pulled clear but the guards followed up. There was a short skirmish that the SAS came through unscathed. Still they decided to get off the road. By this time the whole country must be on the alert. Their driver was most unhappy as he was also the owner of the truck and he was being forced to make his own route through the bush, over rocks and knocking down trees. The going was very rough and by late afternoon they could go no further. By now though they were within helo range. Comms were established and they were told to prepare for pick up the next morning. An LZ was prepared before they were finally able to fall into an exhausted sleep. Sentries kept watch through an uneventful night. The Zambians were searching in vain.

The next morning they bulldozed the final trees to clear the LZ, much to the heartbreak of the driver.

The Bells had already begun their long, dangerous journey North into Zambia. They flew from Salisbury, refueling at Mount Darwin then again at Musengezi Mission, then finally towards Luangwa. They had fuel drums on board and thanks to a simple but ingenious system they were able to refuel whilst in flight, jettisoning the drums as they emptied.

As they neared the soldiers, Major Wilson, at the prearranged time, put out a continuous transmission on his VHF radio. The lead pilot homed in on it and the Cheetahs touched down on the LZ. SAS, prisoners and equipment were rapidly loaded up whilst the helicopter techs carried out a final refuel. Within 15 minutes they were airborne and on their way for the long flight home, across Zambia and Cabora Bassa dam. It gave the men time to contemplate their spectacular achievement At last on the 13 October they touched down on Rhodesian soil.

Grahame and his free fall team had, for 10 days been deeper inside enemy territory than any others had penetrated before or since. They were faced with obstacles from the very onset, but undeterred, in the most professional and dedicated manner they carried out the reconnaissance.

Captain Bob McKenzie and his well rehearsed and equally determined team joined them and together they overcame all the challenges to complete their mission with 100% success.

Both bridges were destroyed and the full team was recovered to base without loss of life or injury. They returned with all of their very precious equipment which they could ill afford to lose. The Zambian economy was grievously hurt and Kenneth Kaunda found himself forced into a situation that suited Rhodesia.

Of all the external operations I took part in, it was certainly the most varied, interesting and challenging. I was very proud to have been a small part of it.

The prisoners were of course concerned about their fate right up the time they emplaned. No doubt they feared the worst from their ferocious looking captors. The little boys were the exception, enjoying every minute of it. They were well cared for in Rhodesia and then finally returned safely to Zambia.

When Frank returned from leave he called me into his office and asked how things had gone.

"On what?" I nonchalantly asked.

"Op Cheese!"

"Oh, piece of cake."

He just smiled and nodded knowingly

Kevin your story gives a magnificent insight into the stress and absolute professional manner in which the staff of the Parachute Training School always carried out their duty of ensuring all the parachutists they dispatched from any aircraft always arrived on the proper DZ with the minimal number of injuries. You did a wonderful job on this occasion and I am proud to have been a member of Rhodesian Parachute Training School. Derek de Kock

KEVIN MILLIGAN'S STORY Part 3

That evening they began their long hard walk to the bridges. Time was of the essence but so was stealth. Of course, as we flew back I only knew that the jump had gone well and that they were on target. When we landed we were weary but very relieved. I don't think George was too happy with me but Jack seemed in good humour, as well he should be. The next day when I returned to PTS, I discovered from OC Flying Wing that the box was missing and the recce was proceeding on foot consequently, Phase Two would be delayed.

Major Wilson and his men made good progress towards the bridges, finally reaching a wide tributary that joined the Chambeshi River on the night of the 6 October. They were very close now. Paul remained in the Lay Up Position whilst the other 3 stripped off and swam to the bridges. Stan remembers diving down to the pedestals of two of the piers to check how far down they were, what width etc. It was intelligence for the demo boffins back in Rhodesia. It was challenging work in the pitch black with a strong current ripping past. All was quiet as they carried out their recce, noting with satisfaction that it was just as they expected from the photos and the models. The explosives being brought in would be more than sufficient for the task. As anticipated there was a small police presence to guard the bridges. Very satisfied with the recce they slipped away undetected and rejoined Paul who sent an unscheduled radio transmission confirming the dimensions of the bridges and a static line drop to be carried out early on 8 October. They moved off, returning to the area of their DZ, where they located a suitable DZ for the rest of the team and awaited their arrival.

ASSAULT PARTY FOLLOW UP

On the morning of the 6 October, OC Flying Wing told me to report to Fylde, the secret airfield near Hartley, with one other dispatcher This was in preparation for the assault party follow up who had already pre positioned there. Fylde was hardly ever mentioned and only then by those in the know in hushed tones. I knew of it but had never been there. It was sited in a very rural area about 40kms out of Salisbury. Mike Duffy and I set off. Imagine our amazement upon arrival, to see a large South African Air Force C130 Hercules. I had dispatched S African Recce Commando troops from our Daks into "the Russian Front" in Gaza province, Mocambique on occasions, as recently, they were working hand in hand with the SAS down there but never expected this!

The C130 was a magnificent transport aircraft and could carry over 60 paras and was also ideal for parachuting cargo off its ramp. It was the answer to our prayers for dropping the bigger loads. Someone in high places had obviously pulled strings and it was in S Africa's interests too to have Kaunda reigned in, as terrorists operating in their country were also using Zambia as a base. We met up with the crew and equipment. This comprised of the Captain, Major Gardner an ebullient man, who could not have been more enthusiastic or helpful, co pilot, navigators, engineers, 2 load masters and 2 para despatchers, pallets, 64ft parachutes and resupply equipment. It was going to be used to parachute in the 12 men plus a Zodiac inflatable boat with motor, fuel, 6 canoes (2 of which were replacements for the Halo team), paddles and about a ton of explosives, dets, etc. Now I knew why the boxes had been so big for the trials from the DC 7.

As the majority of the SAS were unfamiliar with the aircraft, the Captain explained the various characteristics, aircraft drills and emergency drills. The para despatchers myself and Mike then took the SAS for some synthetic training to practice the techniques. (I had jumped the C130 several times in UK with the Brit Paras which definitely helped). The training posed no problems and they rapidly familiarised themselves with the new drills. After discussion with Captain Bob McKenzie, the team commander and Major Gardner, we decided to do two training jumps. One without equipment and then one with full kit. During this time, two despatchers who had arrived from 3 Air Supply Platoon, Rhodesian Army and the load masters were considering and preparing the best means of palletising all the equipment.

Some time later Bob McKenzie was informed that the deployment would not take place that night. This was fortunate as the high winds throughout the day had prevented any training jumps and it would give more time for rigging of the pallets.

The next day at 1500 hrs all the pallets were rigged and the troops bergen rucksacks positioned on the pallets to help balance the loads, ensuring a uniform descent rate and so close grouping of the pallets.

An hour later, the huge aircraft took off and ran in at 600ft over the airfield. It had on board a pallet rigged with 3 fuel drums which we wanted to give a trial drop. As it ran in over the drop zone, the load masters dispatched the pallet down the ramp and the pallet come over the tailgate, its 64 ft parachute rapidly deploying in the slipstream. The winds were quite strong and as the pallet landed a few moments later it hit hard, before being rolled over as the large parachute was caught by the wind before collapsing. We ran over to the load and saw that the drums had received substantial damage. When we discussed it with the load masters after they landed, they said that it was not uncommon and it was realised that if the pallet carrying the Zodiac rolled on landing the damage could be quite extensive. The assault group leader decided that in calmer conditions, which was normal during the night, that it would be a justifiable risk.

By 1800hrs the winds were calmer and we emplaned the paras for a familiarisation jump without equipment. We used Rhodesian parachutes which the SAS had collected from New Sarum. We had 14 paras but only 12 would be going on the op. I guess the chance to jump a C130 was too good an opportunity to miss. We would be dispatching 7 from each door, port and starboard. The Dak and DC7 only have a door on the port side, so jumping from the starboard door meant adopting a mirror image stance for aircraft and exit drills but the men had no problems with it. The C 130 also has a wind deflector on the forward edge of the door which helps to overcome some of the exit problems encountered with higher drop speeds. Not a luxury they had when jumping the DC7 static line.

We ran in at 600ft and the guys were looking very pleased with themselves as they prepared to jump from this lovely para aircraft. Mike and I were positioned, one at each door along with the two para despatchers The green came on and they were on their way in a flash, surprising even the para dispatchers Being a jump without kit and using both doors simultaneously meant that grouping in the air was extremely close with some canopies touching however, this led to all the troops landing very close together ensuring rapid RV procedures.( Stan Standish - White did his para course at the S. African Para School at Tempe. On his last jump, which was from a C130, he had a midair collision which resulted in the other guy suffering a broken collar bone.) There were no injuries and the SAS were delighted with the C 130. Something different for the logbook and a bit of one upmanship over their buddies.

They were in good humour but obviously apprehensive as they kitted up later for the real thing. There just had not been time for another training jump but it had gone so well that they were full of confidence in themselves, the aircraft and its crew, which were first class. The four pallets with all of their equipment were loaded and final briefings carried out. Major Wilson and his team were eagerly awaiting them 800kms away.