The final training jump, a dress rehearsal, was carried out on the night of the 29 September. Myself, Frank and Mike had the parachutes all ready for them when they arrived at the hangar. There were five free fallers, as one would be reserve in case of injury. They had the equipment box containing 2 canoes, 4 paddles, spare HF radio and batteries, 2 spare VHF radios, ammo, food and water. We prepared the box with parachute, strobe light and Kap 3 automatic opening device, whilst the men kitted up. Once ready we loaded up the DC 7 and then took off for Darwendale in the moonlight. We kitted up the free fallers with their bergens on the climb to altitude and the loads were heavy. Paul French has commented that he jumped with AK 47, chest webbing, belt order, water bottles, emergency rations, grenades, air to ground comms and small medical kit. In his bergen he carried HF radio, 2 batteries, di pole antenna, VHF radio and 4 batteries, 5 days water, 10 days rations, light weight sleeping bag, bivvie sheet, lightweight ground sheet, gas cooker, heavy knife, camo cream, toothbrush, set of civvies for escape purposes, maps, codebook, notebook, pencils, torch and matches (On the actual op he would also have a British passport and foreign currency in his pockets). I had grown used to to seeing the staggering loads they jumped with but I could not help but be in awe just the same. He himself said it was a realistic load but I recall how Mike and I helped him kit up and move to the door prior to the jump.
We ran in over the dam at 12 000ft as opposed to 15 000ft as we were not using oxygen. Frank was doing the spotting. He gave the signal and we heaved the box out of the door which was immediately followed by the free fallers. Lt Phil Cook had some excitement on opening when he realised he had a malfunction. He carried out his drills superbly and made a safe landing on his reserve. ( He made a bit of history as it is the only time that we had a malfunction cutaway and a reserve landing at night.) As soon as they grouped around the box, which had worked well, Major Wilson talked us in. By now we had descended to low level and were running in. A quick flash of the landing lights to orientate Grahame, then he talked us in. Bob McKenzie was standing ready with his assault team. As always the the ex American Airborne vet was wearing his distinctive US pattern paratroop helmet. It was always easy to pick him out and I never saw him use anything else. He was a great character, very courageous, and a truly professional soldier. His serenity under fire was legendary and his men showed him the utmost loyalty. As the green came on Mike and I rapidly dispatched them. I hoped that Grahame's assessment of the wind drift was correct and the lads would be clear of the water. In the event they were, all except one. Bob found himself splashing down on the waters edge but fortunately it was only knee deep. He was soaked, not very happy, but unharmed. We peeled off and returned to Sarum, glad that it had gone well.
Two days later Frank called me into his office. He explained that he had booked a well deserved leave to S Africa some time earlier and as much as he would have loved to be on the op, he could not disappoint his wife by postponing it. I would be in charge of Op Cheese from the PTS point of view. Grahame was in the picture. I was proud that he trusted me and terrified at the same time. I don't think I had a decent sleep from that day until the assault party were finally dropped.
On the morning of the 2 October, I was informed by Grahame that we would be going that night on a recce to Chambeshi to assess the haze and moonlight conditions. We would use a 5 Squadron Canberra. This was definitely a first for us. The Canberras regularly carried out clandestine flights over Zambia and Mocambique taking aerial photographs but not with paras to eyeball the situation. When Jack did it in his DC7 he used his Air Cargo story for Lusaka tower. I think in this case, it was say nothing and just do it. The chances of interception by Migs or missiles were deemed very slight. The pilot briefed us that we would fly at 35 000ft before dropping down to the proposed drop height of 15 000ft over target. We squeezed ourselves into the jet bomber and off we set. We cruised over Zambia at high level then began our descent over the target area. Grahame slid back from the bomb aimers position and gestured for me to move up. I squeezed up into position with some difficulty as I was wearing my aircrew parachute and then looked down through the perspex dome. We circled and even though it was hazy I could discern the Chambeshi River in the moonlight. I slid back into the cockpit and gave Grahame the thumbs up. We quickly returned to 35 000ft and Sarum where we agreed it was all systems go for the next evening, the 3 October.
On the day of our departure I was going over my aerial photos and preparing myself for the op. It was then that I heard the bad news about an incident that day. A few days prior to this, I had despatched RLI troops into New Chimoio which turned into an extended fight. Pursuant to this, Hunters and Canberras were requested to carry out air strikes on a Frelimo column that appeared to be readying themselves for a reprisal raid against a security base at Ruda. In the ensuing action both a Canberra and Hunter were downed by severe ground fire. It was a costly blow that rattled the Blues.
I was glad that I would be in a DC 7 at 15 000ft beyond reach of most ground fire and also that our insertion would be very clandestine. There was little time to dwell on it as once it was dark the SAS arrived, as did the pilots. As usual, Squadron Leader George " Punchy" Alexander would be Captain and Flight Lieutenant Jack Malloch the co pilot. As the owner of the DC7, Jack could make sure he was on all the important missions with it. He thrived on it. They had been the crew for the training jumps and we were in very good hands. George was the ex O.C. 3 Squadron. A very good, experienced and decorated pilot but rather volatile at times - hence "Punchy". Jack a well built man, oozing a quiet confidence, was a legend in his own right and had carried out many daring exploits in his time. He had flown Spitfires in the Second World War having been shot down and saved by his parachute on one occasion. Nothing phased him out. The men found him considerate and amusing. His big passion at that time was to restore a Spitfire from its plinth as Gate Guardian and fly it once more. (He was to achieve his ambition). We reviewed the plan then 30 minutes before take off loaded up the aircraft in readiness. The met. forecast was not too good in relation to ground haze and I went over my photos again as I taped them up on the inside of the fuselage near the door. Mike Duffy who would once more be the oxygen NCO, was busy fussing over the bottles as the team settled down for the long flight. Grahame managing to look nonchalant as always, his calmness no doubt reassuring the rest of the lads. We were such a small group in the cavernous fuselage. It was going to be a long cold flight at altitude and Jack considerate as always had provided some blankets to be worn until we had to prepare for the drop.
Those four large radial engines fired up in a throaty roar and I once more looked at the long blue exhaust flames from the exhaust stacks. During the day you don't see them but at night, to me - ever aware of heat seeking Sam 7's, they looked like bonfires. We taxied out and at 2330hrs. George poured on the power and we rumbled off for target. As per plan we climbed to 18 000ft and followed the normal air lane route over Zambia towards Tanzania. We sat back, oxygen masks on and contemplated the task ahead. Mike made regular checks on us to make sure no one was suffering from anoxia., which was the last thing we would need. At the appointed time, George brought us around and began to descend to drop height,15 000ft. Mike and I were kept very busy assisting the guys to fit up up with their kit and heavily loaded bergens. No easy task but everyone knew the routine well and final checks were carried out.
The free fall box was positioned in the door, pilot chute static line hooked up and Kap 3 armed. The men closed up towards the box.
I dropped to my knees and positioned myself at the door, looking down over the door sill and then ahead. It was very hazy once more and I knew George was relying on his instruments and dead reckoning for our positioning. He did not have the sophisticated nav. aids now so common nevertheless, I knew he would make a good job in positioning for an accurate run in from the IP.
George informed me were commencing run in but try as I might I could not see the river, the bend or anything I could use as my IP for run up to target. George insisted that according to his dead reckoning, we must be over target. I did not doubt him but was equally insistent that I could not see it. For static line drops, the Captain has command of the aircraft for the drop. For free fall, it is the No 1 despatcher doing the "spotting" who has command, as only he can see accurately whether or not they are directly over the DZ.
When we had obviously overflown the DZ. I stood up and told Grahame about the problem and suggested a run in at 12 000ft. He agreed and George brought it around hard on a reverse run, the guys bracing hard against the g force with their heavy kit. I took the photo down and reversed it to make sure I was properly oriented, scanning below through the darkness and haze for a glimpse of anything I might recognise but, no joy. George was becoming very insistent but I could not pick up any landmarks. Like Frank Hales before me, I was not prepared to put the team at even extra risk and was prepared to accept his anger and abort if need be.
We agreed to a final run at 8 000ft. It was make or break. I knew how hard it must be on the lads as they stood weighed down by their kit and nerves stretched to the limits. ( I recently asked Stan how he felt as we circled around getting lower on each run in. He said " I had forgotten all about the circling - I was so poop scared it was not surprising!") I caught Grahame's eye and he gave me a nod of assurance. (He has told me since "The oxygen was a pain - standing in the door holding the mask as we circled - ready to ditch it- with my back breaking due to a heavy pack.") As we turned and began our final run in, I was very aware that the DC 7 must sound very noisy at 8 000ft. To go any lower would be asking for compromise. We were already pushing our luck.
I frantically peered out for any sign of the river and the crucial bend but to my great disappointment, again, nothing. With a very heavy heart I told George to abort and indicated to Grahame to stand back. I was so angry and frustrated and as George said "It must be there!" only good discipline prevented me from saying something I would regret but I had a final look out of the door. It was like something out of a movie. At just the right time and the right angle, I saw the moon glinting on the river bend that I was looking for, just as it was on the photo. There was little time for the normal flat turn corrections on run in as I called to George "Come left, come left, harder - steady" then "Go,Go, Go." to Grahame. It wasn't very text book and we all heaved as the the strobe light was switched on and forced the box out of the door. Mike and I immediately helped the guys as they waddled to the door as quickly as they could before plunging out into the blast from those big engines. It was 0130 hrs on the 4 October. Op Cheese was finally underway.
Mike and I were ecstatic and so relieved to have seen and dispatched them over target. Now came the excruciating wait before they radioed to us as to how the drop had been. We went into a wide orbit, well clear of the area but within Grahame's radio range.
Stan says " My exit was horrendous"
Paul remembers, because of his heavy kit, just flopping into the slipstream, the brief smell of the engines and then the silence of the free fall. As he turned to face the box he could clearly see the moon glint on the river and the dark shapes of Grahame and Phil below him. He followed them down to pull height and opened the parachute at 2 000ft as he wanted to be close to the box. He searched for the white cross sewn on to the top of the canopy as a marker but he could not pick it up. He could see the other 3 canopies though and steered towards the lowest, Major Wilson. He landed amongst some small bushes and trees and quickly armed himself. After pushing his parachutes down two large ant bear holes he RV'd with the others where he found that all was well but no one had seen the box under canopy. Stan remembers " Our group was pretty messy - the box just thundered down." Grahame contacted Jack on his radio and informed us that the drop was good. We did not know then that the box was missing. We turned for home. Grahame meanwhile organised a square search. Two of them carried out a search moving in ever increasing squares but it was fruitless. Paul then tapped out a signal to HQ informing them of the situation. Next morning they carefully searched through the bush once more but had no luck. It did not look good. Grahame says that it confirmed their Standard Operating Procedures whereby items of importance were carried on the para and not in the box. They had spare radios but they would have to change their plan to canoe to the bridges and instead proceed on foot. They laid up for the rest of the day and all was quiet. It would seem that their insertion had thankfully gone unnoticed.
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