Читать книгу 1 Recce - Alexander Strachan - Страница 7

Strange destination: Biafra

Far north from South Africa, in Nigeria, a civil war was raging. The conflict had started after Col. Chukwuemeka Ojukwu, military governor of that country’s Eastern Region, unilaterally declared the area a sovereign state on 30 May 1967. At first there was no noteworthy reaction, but gradually skirmishes broke out between forces of the new Republic of Biafra and the Nigerian government, which soon escalated into a full-scale civil war.

Biafra had meagre military supplies, and Nigeria had immediately blockaded its ports to boot. The breakaway state with its population of 14 million found itself pitted againt the rest of Nigeria’s 41 million. Only four African states – Gabon, Zambia, Tanzania and Ivory Coast – recognised Biafra officially. France and Portugal covertly supported the new state. In military terms it seemed like a hopeless situation for the Biafrans, yet the war would last for more than two years.3

In early 1969, Gen. Fritz Loots (then Director of Military Intelligence) was in the Angolan capital Luanda to visit his Portuguese counterpart. One afternoon there was an unexpected knock at his hotel door. The visitors were two black men. We are army officers from Biafra, they told the surprised Loots. He found the situation exceedingly strange. Two West Africans wishing to hold talks with an officer of the SADF was not an everyday occurrence. After the initial polite pleasantries, they came to the point: Biafra was requesting assistance from South Africa – weapons, ammunition, explosives, mines and medical supplies.

Back in South Africa, Loots briefed the then minister of defence, PW Botha, on the situation. When Botha asked Loots what he would recommend, Loots’s view was that South Africa should assist the Biafrans. Botha doubted whether supplying them with weapons would help; Nigeria was too strong for Biafra. Loots pointed out, however, that assistance to Biafra might benefit South Africa by opening closed doors to a few other African countries as well as to France.

Loots planned to assist Biafra with covert logistical support as well as military training. The need for a Special Forces unit might have taken root in his mind during this time. After all, a highly clandestine task such as guerrilla training in Biafra did not fall within the scope of an ordinary defence force.

As a first step, he looked for someone who would be equal to the covert mission. Once again the name of Jan Breytenbach (who had meanwhile been promoted to major) came up. Loots requested him to assemble a three-man team for the mission. Breytenbach’s first choice was Yogi Potgieter, who had passed the Rhodesian SAS selection course with him in 1967. Trevor Floyd (of 1 Parachute Battalion) was his next choice. He asked Trevor to nominate another person, which was how FC van Zyl (a fellow paratrooper and Trevor’s bosom buddy) became the third member.

Breytenbach kept his team in the dark about their destination right until the end. We’re going to Angola to train Portuguese soldiers, he said.

Breytenbach first went to Biafra on his own to do a recce. The mission required thorough planning as the entire area was besieged. For security reasons he flew via Paris, France, to Gabon. Jack Mulloch, who was based in Rhodesia and owned his own fleet of DC-7 aircraft, piloted Breytenbach personally on his first flight from Gabon to Biafra. They took off after dark and flew at a dangerously low altitude to evade the Nigerian radar and attack aircraft. Finally they touched down at Biafra’s Uli airport without incident.

The Biafrans thought Breytenbach would help them solve all their problems, and welcomed him cordially. They seemed to be well set up militarily. It was only when he insisted on inspecting the ‘front’ that he found out the deployment on the Imo River left much to be desired. Instead of waging a guerrilla war, which would have seemed advisable in the light of their military shortcomings, the Biafran officers had set themselves up for a conventional war. Breytenbach was amazed that they were still managing to hold out.

In South Africa, Trevor, FC and Yogi were still under the impression that they were bound for Angola. Trevor and FC were on a course when they were instructed to buy civilian clothes and report to Breytenbach in Pretoria. Trevor purchased a white suit with a matching hat. The outfit made him look like a ‘Mexican gangster’, he said. But he reckoned he was dressed appropriately to blend in inconspicuously with his fellow travellers on the intended journey.

On the eve of their departure Breytenbach surprised them with the news that they were not going to Angola, but to Biafra. None of them had ever heard of Biafra. When he explained that it was in Nigeria, they did not know where that was either. Moreover, they had to fly there via France.

Yogi, who was the last to depart, joined the group in France, and they flew together to Libreville, Gabon. Everything went smoothly, except that – without anyone being consulted on the matter – an unknown British member with the codename ‘Spuds’ had been allocated to their team.

In Biafra, much training and reorganising lay in store for them. The Biafrans had traditionally only trained officers. The particular officer would then select his own troops, train them himself, and they would go off to fight. The officers could show Breytenbach with great precision on a map where the enemy was and where their own troops’ positions were located. But whenever he reconnoitred the positions himself, he could not find a single soldier at the designated place.

The South African training team embarked with great zeal on the task of training the Biafran Organisation of Freedom Fighters (BOFF) as guerrillas. With Malloch’s support, South African military materials and equipment were flown weekly to Uli airport: consignments of ammunition, 7,62-mm rifles, machine guns, mortars, landmines and anti-personnel mines. The team discovered to their surprise that there were indeed some troops who displayed considerable potential and perseverance.

To test whether the training had been successful, Breytenbach decided to deploy his team with the troops. He and Trevor reconnoitred the hostile Nigerian territory themselves. Thus the team became involved in battles on the banks of the Imo River where Breytenbach was wounded in the abdomen. But the injury could not have been too serious, as Yogi’s medical knowledge was sufficient to treat him.

Landing at Uli airport was a complicated process since the runway lights were turned off permanently for safety reasons. The pilot had to fly over the radio beacon from a particular direction and line up the plane with a runway he could not see because it was shrouded in darkness. At the last moment he would give his call sign and request ‘Lights, please!’. The runway lights would then be switched on very briefly, the pilot would land quickly, and the lights were immediately turned off again. On the ground, torches were used to guide the aircraft to where it had to stop.

The South Africans were given weekends off, and they would take turns to fly to Libreville in Gabon on Friday evenings. They would then spend the weekend in that city and only fly back to Uli on Sunday evening.

When it was Trevor’s turn to go, he ran into French soldiers who were enthusiastically celebrating the feast day of St Michael (the patron saint of all paratroopers), whom the French call Saint Michel. He had never heard of this custom, and was amazed at how they partied with total abandon. On top of that, some lucky souls who were also named Michel got another couple of days off. Trevor wasted no time and immediately joined the French in their festivities.

By Sunday evening when he had to return to Uli, he was still much the worse for wear and missed the flight. It was only on the Monday that he managed to get a flight back. An irate Breytenbach demanded an explanation for his gallivanting and late arrival. Trevor gave them a glowing account of the Saint Michel festivities and how generously the French had included him in their celebrations.

The following weekend, Breytenbach and FC departed for Libreville with great expectations of participating in the festivities. But they had to return with their hopes dashed, as the event was only celebrated once a year.

That was Trevor’s first Saint Michel. The following year they celebrated the occasion at Oudtshoorn with a jump along with some members of 1 Parachute Battalion.4 This partying on St Michael’s Day subsequently became an annual institution among the group of Recces.

With the odds so heavily stacked against them, the Biafrans were unable to make much headway against the rest of Nigeria. By the end of 1969 their war effort started waning, and it became clear that the South African team would have to be withdrawn soon.

Breytenbach and Trevor were the only two South Africans still left at Uli airport on the final day. A DC-7 aircraft, piloted by Ed Davis, landed on the runway to deliver the last supplies to Biafra. The local population must have sensed that the end was near and had started congregating in the airport area from early that morning. Some distance away, Col. Ojukwu’s plane stood totally isolated – he, too, was on his way out.

These two aircraft were the only functioning planes at the airport that day. While the last cargo was being unloaded from the DC-7 in great haste, Breytenbach quickly went off to Ojukwu’s plane to bid him farewell and make the final arrangements before his departure.

Meanwhile Trevor was getting increasingly anxious about the panicky crowd who had pinned their hopes on the DC-7 aircraft to escape from the advancing Nigerian army. This force was now barely a kilometre away from the airfield. There was no space in the plane to evacuate so many refugees, and it would in any case be unable to take off with such a heavy load.

Trevor wanted to try nonetheless to rescue some of the Red Cross workers. So he opened the door of the plane and let himself down with a rope. The moment the crowd saw him everybody surged forward, trying to get into the plane. No, he said, nobody could board yet because they were still unloading cargo. He did manage to get the message through to members of the Red Cross that they would be hauled up with the rope. Trevor was overwhelmed by the hopelessness of the situation. Out of desperation, he announced that they were still waiting for the pilot, and that nothing could happen until he arrived.

Among the crowd was a colonel who asked if his young daughter could stand at the front of the queue. Trevor agreed that she could be the first to board, but his eyes kept searching for Breytenbach who was apparently being delayed. The desperate mob could not be kept in check much longer, and the situation was getting more critical by the second. But Breytenbach was still missing and Trevor knew he could not leave without him.

Back in the plane, Davis called him to the cockpit and showed him that the Biafrans were parking a huge truck in front of the nose of the plane to prevent it from taking off. Again Trevor went down with the rope, this time to threaten the driver to remove his vehicle. In the meantime they did manage to hoist up some of the Red Cross staff, but it was an uphill battle, especially because the women were not strong enough to maintain a grip on the rope. An agitated Trevor now cast aside all military etiquette and yelled at the top of his voice: ‘Jan! Jan! Come on, why are you taking so bloody long?’

With the Nigerians’ shells falling ever closer, Davis had had enough of this life-threatening situation. He was going to take off without Breytenbach, he announced. For Trevor, this meant he would have to jump out and stay behind with his team leader. He plucked out his pistol and threathened Davis with it. Luckily, the situation was defused shortly afterwards when Breytenbach came rushing up in a vehicle.

‘Make way, make way for the pilot!’ Trevor shouted furiously at the crowd. ‘Let the pilot get in!’

Breytenbach pushed his way through the panic-stricken people and scrambled up the rope ladder. The moment he was inside the plane, they stormed the ladder and started climbing frantically. But the strong rope could not bear this overwhelming weight and the entire ladder collapsed. In the process, the little girl who had been at the front of the queue was trampled by the mob.

Under artillery fire coming in from the approaching Nigerians, Davis started taxiing, steering the plane between the deep craters the shells had ripped in the runway. Outside, a number of people were still clinging desperately to the body of the aircraft. As the plane accelerated, the last ones peeled away like loose skin. Then volleys of bullets tore holes in the plane. Ironically, Breytenbach and Trevor’s last fight was against the Biafrans themselves. They were firing impulsively at the plane in a desperate attempt to keep it grounded. Amid all the chaos, Davis miraculously succeeded in getting the DC-7 into the air.

In the plane, Breytenbach and Trevor saw a soldier in uniform who had taken the place of someone else who could have been rescued. With adrenaline pumping through their veins, they were bent on opening the door and throwing him out. The flight engineer had his hands full to restrain the two South Africans. Fortunately, everyone calmed down after the plane had been in the air for a while. They landed in Libreville, and the refugees they had managed to evacuate disembarked there. This was the end of the Biafran episode.

During their stopover in France on the way home Breytenbach had a debriefing with the French Special Forces. In the process they also informed him about their secret structures.

Trevor later received the Pro Merito Medal (PMM) for his actions at Uli airport, while Breytenbach was awarded the Southern Cross Decoration (SD).