Читать книгу 1 Recce, volume 2 - Alexander Strachan - Страница 5

Recces snatch Savimbi away from the enemy’s grasp

‘It was around 23:00 when the pilot said we were approaching the area where we were due to jump out. The plane switched over to the Unita frequency, and Unita actually replied and said: “Roger, get ready to drop the jumpers.” They said they could hear the plane and would light the fires … And, sure enough, far below us we saw the triangle of fires suddenly starting to burn brightly.

‘We were slightly out of line, and the pilot had to make a minor adjustment to his approach. Then all three of us went to stand at the rear of the plane, on the ramp. The loadmaster was hanging out of the door, his thumb up in the air. At that moment the green jump light went on and he turned his thumb downwards – the signal we were waiting for. We held on to each other and went out in a linked exit.’

Moments after the jump, Hennie Blaauw glanced down and saw they were virtually opposite the three fires – they could not have jumped more accurately.

‘We let go of each other, moved apart and opened the parachutes. Next time I looked down, I saw, yes, we were still directly above those three fires.’

It was a clear moonlit night, and Blaauw and his comrades – Amilcar Queiroz and Gert Eksteen – landed without problem close together in the shona where the fires had been lit. They quickly regrouped and sorted out the parachutes.

‘So we stood there in the moonlight. Before long, we saw figures coming towards us out of the darkness.’

Queiroz, an Angolan, spoke Umbundu fluently and he challenged them. Umbundu was spoken in Unita circles, while the governing MPLA’s soldiers spoke Kimbundu. The group turned out to be the three Recces’ escort that had been awaiting their arrival.

‘The group took over our parachutes, and we set off. We had only our backpacks because our parachutes were being carried for us.’ They walked out of the shona in a northerly direction, into the bush. About two hours later, between 02:00 and 03:00, they reached the Unita base where they were given a place to sleep and unpacked their backpacks and equipment.

At that stage of the war Unita did not know where their leader, Dr Jonas Savimbi, was. The three Recces had been instructed to conduct a search-and-rescue mission under extremely risky conditions and track down Savimbi. This was the second attempt to find him after the first one had been called off because intelligence indicated that Savimbi was not in the Cuando Cubango province.

The next day they met the base commander, Gen. Samuel Chiwale, the then chief of Unita’s armed forces. Chiwale was a tall, imposing man, very muscular, and a pleasant person. He made a good impression on them and could speak some English, enough for them to understand him.

‘He told us that they still didn’t know exactly where Savimbi was, but he was on his way to them from the north. So we just hung around in the base, did some washing and so on. The last few days things had happened very quickly. On the Sunday we were still in Durban, on Monday evening we jumped in, and on Tuesday morning we woke up in a Unita base.

‘That evening Chiwale invited us to dinner in a beautiful place they had prepared in a large hut. And the strangest thing of all was the two electric bands there in the jungle, in the middle of nowhere. They took turns to play. There were women too, all dressed up, and they let rip with gusto on the dance floor. I couldn’t believe all of this was happening right here in the bush.

‘After dinner we sat down again, but they said: “Oh no, now you guys have to dance!” That was quite a story. And the Boere danced and I said to Gert: “If our forefathers had to see us now, they would be spinning in their graves!”’

* * *

After Operation Savannah2 the last South African forces were withdrawn from Angola by 27 March 1976, with the result that the governing MPLA and its defence force, Fapla, drove the resistance movement Unita out of all the towns and areas that had been under their control.

The South African Defence Force (SADF) had also lost all contact with Savimbi. Even Maj. Isaías Samakuva, Unita’s liaison officer at Rundu in the then South West Africa (now Namibia), had no idea where his leader was. He asked the SADF at Rundu to urgently help find Savimbi and get him out of Angola for his own safety.

In the wake of Operation Savannah the South African government was totally on its own in the SWA-Angola conflict, says Maj. Gen. Chris Thirion, the then Deputy Chief of Staff Military Intelligence (MI) in the SADF. Nothing came of the expected American support. There was only international condemnation of all military action in Angolan territory.

South Africa was therefore urgently in search of military allies. With Portugal’s withdrawal from its African provinces in the mid-1970s and Angola and Mozambique having gained their independence, the situation in southern Africa had changed radically. Angola’s neighbouring states (with the exception of South Africa) recognised the MPLA as the country’s new legitimate government. It meant that the two Angolan resistance movements, the FNLA and Unita, were soon left isolated. The MPLA immediately announced its continued support of the South West Africa People’s Organisation (Swapo) and its military wing, Plan.

The neighbouring states’ support of the MPLA government cut Unita off from its resources. With the Russian and Cuban-supported MPLA as a common enemy, South Africa and Unita therefore had shared interests, says Thirion. ‘The conclusion of a military treaty was a logical consequence of this – “my enemy’s enemy is my friend”.’

Only a few months earlier South Africa had still supported the Portuguese in Angola, and Unita had been the enemy. ‘But in the world of international politics and conflicts there are no permanent enemies or permanent friends – there are only own interests. It suited South Africa that Unita controlled the vast and remote Cuando Cubango province north of the SWA-Angola border.’

According to Thirion, a ‘strategic type of military cooperation agreement’ was then mooted. The problem, however, was that Savimbi could not be located. He was fighting a battle for survival somewhere in eastern Angola, and not even his own people had contact with him. This led to Maj. Samakuva’s request that the SADF help find their leader and rescue him.

‘The search-and-rescue operation, conducted under extremely risky conditions by a small group of Special Forces operators from 1 Recce, was a significant event,’ says Thirion. ‘It was the first step in the formation of a military treaty that would offer the SADF essential tactical elbow room that was to last for more than a decade.’

* * *

Specific procedures were followed before the instruction would be given to conduct such a rescue operation outside South Africa.

Special Forces was under the direct control of the Chief of the SADF and not the Chief of the Army. The Chief of Staff Military Intelligence (MI) had to submit requests to the general officer commanding (GOC) Special Forces, who would then decide whether it was a job for Special Forces and whether it was doable. If so, he would make recommendations about how it could be executed. These were then submitted to the Chief of the Defence Force for comment and final approval.

Only after this process had been concluded could the joint planning between Special Forces and the client proceed, after which Special Forces would carry out the operation. The client in this case was MI, which controlled the SADF’s and, in effect, South Africa’s support to Unita.

In the Savimbi case, 1 Recce’s commander, Cmdt. Jakes Swart, received instructions from the Special Forces HQ to activate a small team. The team members were Maj. Hennie Blaauw and two Angolans, SSgt. Mourão da Costa and Sgt. Amilcar Queiroz. All three were stationed in Durban.

They immediately departed for Pretoria. At the Special Forces HQ they were briefed to fly to Rundu. There they had to join the MI liaison officer who cooperated with Unita’s liaison officer. The team would then receive further instructions and proceed with the planning of and deployment for the operation.

But the stumbling block was that Unita had no idea of Savimbi’s whereabouts. The Unita liaison officer suggested that they start searching for him in the east of Angola, in the Cuando Cubango province, which borders on Zambia. Unita’s secretary-general, Maj. Nzau Puna, was also at Rundu at that point.

They drove to Bagani where they crossed the Okavango River via the bridge, and then went deeper and deeper into Angola on an old Portuguese bush road.

Amilcar Queiroz had an interesting history. An active Unita member in an early stage of Operation Savannah, he had left Unita later in the conflict and joined the South African Special Forces. He was an exceptionally valuable member for, besides his other qualities, he could also speak Portuguese and French.

In his early war days he had walked on the same bush road the small group now followed in their search for Savimbi. During Operation Savannah, Fapla and the Cubans had laid an ambush on that road. He survived the attack, but one of his comrades, Little Robbie Ribeiro, died there.3 After the attack Queiroz had walked southward along the river to the village of Dirico, and from there to the SWA border where he rejoined the South Africans. When the Recces now reached the site of the ambush, Queiroz pointed out the remains of the trenches to Blaauw.

Hunters and woodcutters had previously used the road to go north to Coutado do Mucusso in the Cuando Cubango province. ‘It was a sandy two-track road that was almost overgrown and reminded one of the cutline,’4 Blaauw recalls.

The three Recce operators were accompanied by a small Unita escort on two Unimogs that MI had made available. The escort also served as a bodyguard of sorts for Puna, who had come along.

It took them the whole day to cover the distance of about 120 km to Coutado do Mucusso – a tiny Portuguese settlement on the Luiana River – which they reached by late afternoon. ‘There was a small Unita element that didn’t really look like a military organisation. We couldn’t get any information from them,’ Blaauw recounts, ‘because they had no idea where Savimbi was. In fact, they didn’t even know what we were doing there.’ Puna tried to talk to them but failed to learn anything; they were totally uninformed.

The team spent the night there and set off the next morning in a north-westerly direction, moving up along the Luenge River. As it was winter, the river consisted only of pools of water that they managed to cross with relative ease. ‘Despite it being winter, the days were incredibly hot. And on top of that, there were flies – tsetse flies and mopani flies. Everywhere around you and all over you, flies and yet more flies. It was a terrible business.’

Towards noon they stopped and decided to stay there for the rest of the day. They made a nice pot of curry, ate their fill and then relaxed under the trees. They had just finished eating when Puna came up to the Recces and said they were going to start walking, still on the same route but now on foot.

At one point they came upon a pool of water in the river the size of half a rugby field, and there was a hippo in the water. Puna had an American military rifle with him and wanted to shoot the hippo. ‘Every time the hippo’s head popped up, he shot at it. And then the hippo would dive. We probably spent an hour there while we wondered why he was doing it. Maybe he thought the Unitas could eat the hippo.

‘It made me livid because we had been chased out of the base in the heat of the day, and now we were standing here at a pool of water and he was shooting at a hippo. The river didn’t flow at all there, and the pool was still. And for the life of him Puna couldn’t manage to hit the hippo. After numerous shots he gave up, and we continued walking.’

They then went along the river to where it turned north in the direction of Mavinga, which was the closest town. ‘But it was still a good 100 km away from us.’

The next day they were joined by a small group of Unitas. They were from the vicinity of Mavinga and had a commander, Col. Francisco, with them. Blaauw suspected that Puna had known about the group’s presence all along. There was no enemy in the area as it was far too remote.

‘The commander then asked through Puna if we could help him. This was after the two of them had first had a long conversation.’ The group intended to attack Mavinga, and wanted to know if the Recces could assist them with the operational planning.

‘So Mourão, Amilcar and I sat there under the trees and listened to the commander’s plan. Fortunately, I had a map of the whole Cuando Cubango area with me. There were a number of things I wanted to know: What type of forces did he have, where were they, what was their logistical capability, and with what weapons were they equipped? I also wanted to know who the enemy was, and how strong they were. The commander was extremely vague about the enemy, and I couldn’t establish whether it was Fapla or perhaps another force. All he could say was that there were Faplas in Mavinga.’

Though the commander did not know where Savimbi was, he did confirm that the leader was not in the Cuando Cubango province. There was therefore no point in staying any longer. The team turned around and walked all the way back to their vehicles. The trip had not produced anything, except that they now knew Savimbi was not in the province.

They reached the vehicles after about a day and a half and spent the night there. The next day they returned to Coutado do Mucusso, and again followed the old bush road and crossed the river at Bagani. Finally, two weeks after their departure, they were back at Rundu.

‘The only notable intelligence we had gathered was that Savimbi was not in the Cuando Cubango province. I briefed Unita’s liaison officer, Samakuva, as well as MI’s liaison officer.’ The three Recces then returned to Durban, but first landed in Pretoria where Blaauw reported back to Special Forces HQ. He also mentioned that Unita had decided it was the end of the matter because they had no further information. ‘If the situation changed in the future, we would hopefully be redeployed.’

They arrived at the Bluff in Durban late on the Friday afternoon. Early on the Sunday morning Cmdt. Swart phoned and told Blaauw to come to the headquarters immediately. The other two team members were already there. The team had to return to Pretoria as soon as possible because the operation that had been called off was now going ahead again.

Mourão da Costa, however, had already been earmarked for another operation. So it was decided Gert Eksteen would go in his place. They had to depart that same day still in some or other way. Swart liaised hurriedly with the air force base in Durban, and luckily there was a Dakota that had to fly to Pretoria. Since the matter was so pressing, the Dakota would already leave on the Sunday afternoon.

Everyone rushed to get their kit ready again. Their washed camouflage clothing was still hanging on the washing lines. The new three-man team flew to Pretoria in great haste. At the Special Forces HQ they learnt the reason for the urgency: Unita had received intelligence that Savimbi was somewhere north of the Benguela Railway and moving southward in the direction of the Cunene province. Unita had a base there in the Chimpolo highland. He was probably on his way to this base and would arrive there within two days.

Blaauw and his team had to make sure that they awaited Savimbi’s arrival at the base. Unita wanted the Recce team to help Savimbi get across the border to the safety of Rundu. The intelligence officer made no mention of the suspicion that Savimbi was being followed. Hence Blaauw was unaware that a strong group of Swapo, Fapla and Cuban soldiers were on the Unita leader’s trail.

The Recce team arrived in Pretoria on the Sunday evening. According to Blaauw’s quick calculations, it was not feasible to be in the Chimpolo highland, 200 km inside Angola, within two days. He asked the commander of Special Forces, Gen. Fritz Loots, to urgently arrange for a plane to take them to Rundu the following morning. It preferably had to be a Hercules C-130 so that they could fly that same evening to the target area where they would jump in by freefall. There would not be enough time to bundu bash (drive through the bush) from Rundu to the Chimpolo highland with vehicles. Blaauw also requested that each of them be given a complete freefall kit because this equipment was not available at Rundu.

After Loots had arranged for the plane, he summoned the storemen. The three team members had a free hand to pick whatever they needed … Elton altimeters, freefall goggles, parachutes, emergency parachutes and freefall helmets.

The next morning they flew to Rundu where they again joined the liaison officer, Col. Flip du Preez, and Maj. Samakuva, the Unita representative. The latter confirmed that they had received an indication (possibly a report or via the bush telegraph) and had also had some radio communication with Savimbi. There was consensus that the Recces would jump in by freefall, but where the drop zone (DZ) was and who would mark it they did not yet know.

Unita then said they would mark the DZ with big fires they would light 100 m apart in the shape of a triangle. It would be somewhere in a shona south of the Chimpolo base.

The same C-130 with which they had arrived would be used for the parachute jump. A Dakota would not fit the bill because sensitive navigation systems were required for night flying. The C-130 was equipped with extremely advanced systems for executing a night freefall jump.

In the plane with Blaauw and the other members was a Unita representative who could speak English. It was a clear evening with no smoke anywhere. The plane stabilised at an altitude of just over 1 800 m above ground level so that they would have sufficient height for the jump. At around 23:00 the pilot announced that they were approaching the area of the drop zone.

The three Recces jumped out directly above the target area. On the ground, Unita – as agreed – had lit three fires in a triangle to mark the landing zone. All three landed within the triangle, close together, after which their escort led them to the Unita base – a walk of about two hours.

The next morning the base commander, Gen. Chiwale, confirmed that Savimbi was on his way. That evening the three Recces experienced something that was the last thing in the world they had expected in the bush: a dinner in a beautiful hut followed by a dance party with two electric bands. There were women present, smartly dressed, who cavorted enthusiastically on the dance floor. After the meal the Angolans insisted that the Recces dance as well. That was a sight to behold, Blaauw recounts.

‘The next day at about 10:00, Chiwale said: “Come, come,” and gathered us. “We must go north. We must go and meet the president.” I thought, wow, something is happening here because we saw a kind of ripple going through the base. He said: “Come, we must go forward. The president is on his way.”’

The Unitas had an old Mercedes truck (a ‘vegetable truck’) and Blaauw’s team were on the truck with an escort. There were two vehicles, and they drove along a bush road. By early afternoon they stopped under the trees. ‘We wait here,’ said Chiwale. The Recces sat waiting under the trees, and at one point there was a movement in the bush. ‘And there the group came! Savimbi was right in front, walking in a majestic manner. He was dressed in his camouflage combat uniform and carried an ivory-handled .375 revolver. It was the revolver he always carried when he was with his entourage.’ Noting the president’s neat and clean appearance, Blaauw suspected he had stopped shortly before to wash himself and change his clothes.

Chiwale and the Unita escort were the first to meet him, with enquiries about one another’s welfare and much exuberant mutual backslapping. Then they came forward and the three Recces were introduced to Savimbi. ‘As we stood there, I saw that we could be in for trouble. One of Savimbi’s bodyguards had recognised Amilcar, and he told his president: “This is Amilcar Queiroz, I know him.”’

Queiroz was a former Unita member. Blaauw saw Savimbi and him looking each other in the eyes. ‘I thought, wow, something is going to erupt here. Savimbi may ask him, “So what are you doing here and why aren’t you with us in Angola?”’ Blaauw waited for the eruption, but the next moment Savimbi came closer, embraced Queiroz cordially and they slapped each other on the back. To Blaauw’s surprise, there was a white man among Savimbi’s group. ‘I looked at the guy and gave him a thumbs-up sign, and he did likewise.’ The man later told Blaauw that when he gave him that sign, he realised they were from Special Forces. He turned out to be a journalist who was an ex-member of the French Foreign Legion.

Everyone got on the vehicles and Savimbi wanted Blaauw to sit in front next to the driver, but he said Savimbi should sit in front. They drove back and as they neared the base, a hullabaloo erupted. ‘There were drums beating, women yelling, each and everyone jubilating and clapping hands. It was quite a commotion when Savimbi got down from the vehicle. He first talked to his people and then went to freshen up.’

A while later the Recces received a message that he wished to address the entire base at 16:00. Everyone had to be present, including the three Recces. ‘The whole camp was assembled, the troops were lined up, the crowd was there, and next to them the women with children everywhere among them. And Savimbi, speaking off the cuff, delivered the most dynamic speech imaginable. I could see how he whipped up the people and enraptured them with his resounding words. The people realised their salvation had arrived, the deliverance they had been waiting for was right here in their midst, in the flesh.’

Once Savimbi had finished, he turned round and looked at Blaauw. ‘Major, do you have a message for my people?’ The unexpected request caught Blaauw off guard. ‘Gosh,’ I whispered to Amilcar, ‘what now?’ ‘Listen, Major, you will just have to say something,’ replied Queiroz. Blaauw knew he had no mandate and could not make any promises.

So he confined his impromptu speech to generalities: They appreciate Unita’s struggle and all the hardships they have to endure. The South African government has sympathy with their plight. Back at home he will report back on everything. As soon as the situation has stabilised they will return and support Unita in its struggle, since South Africa is embroiled in the same struggle against communism, and it is terrible. ‘I just kept it vague because there wasn’t really anything I could say or do.’ The speech was repeated for Savimbi in Portuguese.

That evening they had dinner with Savimbi. All his officials and personnel were present, and the three Recces sat opposite him. He thanked Blaauw and said that he greatly appreciated his speech. He then referred to the inspiration and encouragement they drew from the South Africans’ visit and how it lifted their morale. Blaauw told him it had just been a thought, and Savimbi replied: ‘It will be a long struggle.’ ‘I concurred with that and added: “Rome wasn’t built in one day.”’

The people who were with Savimbi were actually his entire cabinet. His chief of the defence force, Gen. Ben Ben (Arlindo Pena), was there, as well as Gen. Samuel Chiwale, chief of the army, and a senior staff officer who also acted as liaison officer, Gen. Alcides Sakala Simoes. Also present was a young straight-backed captain, Tito Chingunji, who spoke fluent English. He had studied in the United States, and Savimbi regarded him as a future ambassador somewhere.

Tito was then assigned to Blaauw as his liaison officer. In addition, he was given a personal bodyguard named Abel. He was shortish and enormously strong, and also acted as his gun carrier. Abel immediately moved over to the Recces’ hut and ‘he was everywhere and everything’.

The next day they got up early. ‘We were just kicking our heels in the base because nothing much was happening.’ But during the dinner the night before the Frenchman had warned Queiroz that the situation was not nearly as safe as it appeared on the surface. A strong enemy group had been pursuing Savimbi from as far back as the other side of the Benguela Railway. The group of Fapla and Cuban soldiers also had helicopters at their disposal.

That news kept preying on Blaauw’s mind: ‘At around 09:00, the sun had already been up for a while, we heard a fighter jet. We went outside and looked from under the trees, and I saw it was an MiG-21. It flew low over the base, so low that I could clearly see the pilot’s bright white helmet. I saw him diving and he flew around us at an angle, but the base was well concealed. My first thought was the many fires, but by that time of the morning they had luckily finished cooking.’

The fighter jet turned around above the base towards the small stream on the south-eastern side where the women were collecting water and doing their washing. ‘The pilot spotted them, adjusted his plane’s approach and bombarded the women. We heard him firing rockets about 500 m from the base and then he flew off. Although he had not seen the base itself, I knew the base was now compromised.’

Tito came running up to Blaauw. ‘You must join the president immediately!’ They grabbed their kit, ran along with him and joined Savimbi’s group. ‘We must evacuate the base,’ said Savimbi. ‘We must move out!’

At some distance from the base the group came to a halt, and they spent the whole day under the trees. Apart from the fighter jet that had flown over them, nothing else happened. Later Tito rejoined the Recces and said they would move out that evening. They stayed under the trees until about 17:00, after which they first moved back to the base again. There they waited until just before dark when Tito came to collect them.

Together with Tito, the three of them joined the big convoy. It was evident to Blaauw that Savimbi had had the whole base evacuated. ‘Everyone and everything were there: women, children, goats and whatever, anything that moved was gathered. Some of the people had chicken coops with chickens on their heads, but everyone stood neatly lined up. The troops controlled the entire exodus. Once the group was complete and no one was left in the base, the signal was given and the whole lot of us set off into the darkness.’

The idea was that they should move in a westerly direction towards the Little Cunene River. ‘We walked and we walked and we walked, and it was quite a business with children screaming and crying and the mothers trying to shush them.’ It was a clear night. At around 04:00 Blaauw said to Queiroz that according to the Southern Cross, they were walking south. He mentioned this to Tito as well, and asked that the convoy be stopped.

Savimbi was at the front of the convoy and after the message had reached him, he came walking up to them. ‘Yes, Major, what is the problem?’ Blaauw informed him that they were not going in a westerly direction. He showed Savimbi the Southern Cross right in front of them, as well as the dawn that was about to break in the east. Blaauw took out his compass and said he would now set it in a westerly direction. Savimbi reflected for a moment and then said firmly: ‘Major, from now on you do the navigation.’

This meant that Blaauw now had to be at the head of the convoy with Savimbi. It was rapidly turning light, and he made another suggestion. He asked that Savimbi split up the convoy. The dust kicked up by the women and children and the whole group collectively would be spotted from the air by the helicopters.

On top of that, the women wore pink, white, blue and brightly coloured dresses; the troops were predominantly dressed in khaki and old Portuguese camouflage uniforms. Blaauw suggested that the women, supported by a strong escort, be led in another direction, but also westward. Savimbi immediately instructed that the women along with the goats, chickens and other animals move separately together with the escort (which was almost at company strength).

From a military perspective, their movement was now more tactical and also much quicker. ‘As I walked, my ears pricked up and I told Amilcar that I’m hearing a chopper. He said: “Yes, it’s definitely a chopper.” We clearly heard how the choppers were following our trail and landing every now and again to put down troops.’

The group accelerated their pace. About an hour later they again heard a chopper approaching and once again troops were dropped off. It was midday and incredibly hot, and the Recces were moving with their big packs on their backs. When they stopped at some point, Savimbi said: ‘Let my soldiers carry your big packs.’ Blaauw told Queiroz to reply that they were Special Forces and accustomed to carrying their own kit. The situation then became very comical because the president remarked to Queiroz: ‘Look at you. You look like a pack donkey.’ Whereupon Queiroz quipped: ‘Mr President, I may be a pack donkey, but I am my own donkey.’

Meanwhile, the enemy was still pursuing the group. At around 14:00 a MiG-21 flew over them from the west side. The group stayed under the trees. Fortunately, the area was densely wooded and not savanna veld. From within the bush they heard vehicles on their left-hand side at some stage. They heard the vehicles coming to a halt and troops getting off – they were evidently dropping stopper groups on the road. Tito’s voice was extremely urgent: ‘Come Major, come Major, we must move before we get captured.’

They now moved at an even faster pace through the bush. Savimbi’s secretary, Ana Isabel Paulino, was also part of the group. (Savimbi later married her.) She was still young, and ran with her typewriter, an old Olivetti, on her head. Behind her was a troop with a table on his head, followed by a second troop with a chair on his head. ‘It was hilarious to see them rushing through the shrubs and trees like that … Ana heading the procession with her typewriter, followed by the troop with her table, then the one with her chair. Whenever Savimbi stopped, they came to a halt in that exact order. Ana would take her seat and if Savimbi said anything, she typed it. The typed page would then be stored in a suitcase. Meanwhile the choppers were roaring over us. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud.’

At some point the hostile activities abated slightly, and Blaauw used the opportunity to make radio contact with Rundu. He gave a quick situation report and told Col. Flip du Preez to be on standby to extract them as the situation was very unstable. ‘If the enemy came at us with troops from the front, we would get completely boxed in. I had barely switched off the radio when Alcides Sakala came up to me. “The president wants to see you,” he said.’

Savimbi wanted to know with whom he had spoken on the radio. Blaauw said he had given Rundu an update about their situation. ‘But you are forbidden to speak on the radio,’ Savimbi said. ‘Because the enemy in the aircraft will hear what you are saying. The MiGs can hear everything you say.’ Blaauw explained that he had spoken on a high-frequency radio (HF set) while the planes were all on very high frequency (VHF) and therefore unable to hear him. Savimbi was clearly not happy. ‘You must not do that,’ was all he said.

They continued their journey, and by the afternoon they went through a shona. Savimbi announced that they would rest there. Ana had already inserted a new page in her typewriter and started typing furiously. ‘At that stage Gert fell ill. He developed a fever and I saw at once that it was malaria, and Amilcar dosed him with a lot of malaria tablets.’

Abel, Blaauw’s bodyguard, told them there was a waterhole in the shona; they could refill their empty water bottles. Blaauw had a water bottle on his body, but the rest were all empty and in his backpack together with the radio. ‘So I just handed him the whole backpack, which was a mistake, because one doesn’t do something like that. Abel collected empty water bottles from Amilcar as well. He and a number of others then left with the water bottles and the backpack.’ They waited, but everything was dead quiet, not a sound. The next moment a fierce contact erupted, and Blaauw realised immediately that it was at the waterhole.

‘And then a troop came running up to us, breathless … he said there was a huge water pan, and that was exactly where the enemy’s follow-up group hit them while they were still collecting water!’ What about Abel, Blaauw asked Tito. ‘Abel has been killed,’ Tito replied. ‘That on top of everything,’ Blaauw thought. He realised that his backpack with the radio was now gone as well. ‘Fortunately, I had all my radio codes with me and the radio was of British origin, so it couldn’t be traced back to South Africa.’ The only problem was that Col. Jan Breytenbach’s name was written on the pamphlet in the radio bag.5

Queiroz had a back-up radio set with him, so they were not cut off from the outside world. ‘But Abel was now simply gone, dead, and along with him my backpack and the radio.’ A few Unitas had been shot dead, but a lot of them managed to run away and had gone somewhere into the bush.

The group packed up hurriedly and moved out of the temporary position at running pace. In the afternoon they halted, and Savimbi asked Blaauw urgently to request an emergency extraction by helicopter. Blaauw contacted Rundu at once. Du Preez said that on the basis of his earlier situation report, they had already sent two Pumas to Omauni to be on standby at 32 Battalion’s operational base. ‘We have to be extracted this evening because the enemy knows where we are and we are getting boxed in,’ Blaauw replied. He informed Savimbi that the choppers would be arriving to extract them at around 22:00: ‘But Mr President, how big is your group?’ Savimbi said he could not leave with fewer than 31 people. ‘I told him it was impossible; the choppers couldn’t take off with 31 people, and then there were we three South Africans as well. The choppers would come in with full fuel tanks, and they wouldn’t be able to lift that load.

‘But Savimbi told me: “I would like to extract 60 people.” Now he actually wanted to extract 60 people! I told him a Puma helicopter could take a maximum of 12 people, so this was totally out of the question. He said: “Okay, wait.” After a short while he returned: “I can’t go with less than 31; I must take out 31 people.” I told him to stand by, we would see if it was possible.’

Darkness was falling fast, and the helicopters had to take off from Omauni at about 21:00 to reach Blaauw and company by 22:00. ‘Just after this, however, we attracted probing mortar fire. They were not 100 per cent certain of our position and were therefore dropping 60-mm mortars in the spot where they suspected us to be.’

The mortar bombs made Blaauw realise that an extraction was not possible at the present time. He contacted Rundu by radio and said the word ‘abort’. The extraction was too risky because they were drawing mortar fire from all directions. As soon as the enemy heard the helicopters coming in, they would direct their fire specifically at the choppers and launch mortars at the landing zone.

The helicopters, which had already been under way, then turned back to Omauni. Blaauw convinced Savimbi that they had to break out on their own: ‘This is what we do now. We sneak out silently. We just keep on moving. We are virtually surrounded. We can break out. We just move slowly, silently so that we can break out of this circle,’ he suggested. ‘Savimbi said that this was in order. And so we set off.’

They walked all through the night. ‘By the time the sun rose, we were out of that danger zone. And we heard no sounds, we heard absolutely nothing. We heard nothing to indicate that we were being pursued, and there were no planes either.’ The group kept moving and spent the night in a kind of temporary base. Blaauw tried again to bring about the extraction. ‘I spoke to Rundu and said that nothing had happened during the day. Everything was quiet and at that point positive, so the extraction could now be done.’

But he was still saddled with the problem of 31 people Savimbi wanted to extract. Those who were not part of the group of 31 had to continue towards the Little Cunene area where there was a base. The troops simply had to keep walking and follow a westerly direction. The women were on a similar but different route. By this time they were far from Savimbi, and there was no contact with them.

It was getting dark, and Blaauw told Savimbi he would try his best to organise that all 31 people were extracted. It was already 21:45 when the helicopters finally made radio contact with Blaauw. John Church, a good friend of his, was the mission leader. ‘My call sign was Moby Dick, and John’s was Retriever. “Okay, Moby Dick, we are 10 minutes out,” he said. “Retriever, I have a problem, I am stuck with 31 people,” I informed him.’ Church retorted: ‘Geez, this is a chopper, not a London bus.’ Couldn’t they make a plan, Blaauw inquired, even if they had to get rid of some fuel?

‘John said they would see what they could do, and there they came … he also said we needed to hurry because he saw fires all around us and it looked as if we were surrounded.’ With that, the helicopters came in to land. Blaauw took charge on the ground and divided them into two groups of fifteen each. Only 27 of Savimbi’s 31 could go along. Savimbi, Ana and the Frenchman were in Blaauw’s group.

When the two helicopters landed, Blaauw went forward to meet them. John said it was okay, they would drain fuel from the two Pumas. The process took a full ten minutes, and Blaauw’s nerves were on edge. If they could only airlift the group to Omauni and rebunker there or even sleep over – they just had to get out of the area as quickly as possible.

When enough fuel had been dumped, Church signalled that the helicopters could take off. ‘I had never thought a ten-minute wait could feel so long. Fortunately, everything went off in a very orderly fashion as far as Savimbi and his officers were concerned. Chiwale stayed behind in the bush, and Ben Ben and Alcides Sakala were in the second group. Those who had been left behind were now in a very desperate situation, but I suppose that is the nature of war.’

From the air, Blaauw saw fires burning everywhere. “And they were not veld fires, one could see immediately that there was a human presence. We turned south and then we were off.’ At a point Savimbi called Queiroz to him. He wanted to know from him what the problem was; why were they not flying, since the helicopter was stationary in the air? ‘I told him he did not have to worry, the chopper was indeed flying. But the Unitas were convinced that the chopper was just hovering in one spot.’

Blaauw, who was wearing a headset, heard Church say they were near ‘the white road’. ‘It was a whitish limestone road and the moonlight shone brightly on it. The moment we flew over the road, we drew fire and I saw the light streaks of the tracer bullets flying past us.’ Church enquired from Blaauw where Savimbi was. ‘He is sitting right here with me in the chopper, what is the problem?’ asked Blaauw, whereupon Church informed him that the second helicopter had been hit.

Blaauw suggested that they first land with both helicopters at Omauni – the damage to the one that had been hit was not too serious. They could leave the damaged chopper there and fly with Savimbi to Rundu. When they landed at Omauni, Blaauw realised he had a major problem on his hands. ‘32 Battalion’s troops at Omauni were all former FNLA soldiers. And here I was arriving right in their midst with the bunch of Unitas. That was asking for trouble. A confrontation between the two groups was almost inevitable.

‘“Listen,” I told the commander, “we now have a problem because the Unitas in the chopper have to stay over in your base tonight. We can’t all fly in one chopper to Rundu. You should please arrange for all your white officers and non-commissioned officers to sleep between the groups so that fighting does not erupt between the two factions.”’

The second helicopter had bullet holes just in front of the tail rotor, and the flight engineer said it was unserviceable. They then flew to Rundu in the other one. On their arrival, Blaauw and the liaison officer organised accommodation for Savimbi in the small Unita base at Rundu while they themselves were given a place to sleep at Rundu’s military base. Eksteen was immediately taken to hospital where he was admitted with malaria. In fact, in the bush he had been in such a bad way that four Unitas had to carry him along on a makeshift stretcher consisting of a groundsheet between two poles. His condition had worsened to such an extent that when they landed at Rundu it looked as if he was slipping into a coma.

Early the next morning they were already with Savimbi. He thanked the Recces repeatedly for what they had done. A technical team was flown to Omauni to repair the damaged helicopter, after which the rest of the Unita group were also brought to Rundu.

‘I handed Savimbi over officially to Col. Flip du Preez, and we then said goodbye to him and wished him all the best. He was quite overcome with emotion when he thanked us once again. We had no further contact with him, as our departure from Rundu back to South Africa was imminent.’6

* * *

According to Thirion and Blaauw, Savimbi’s rescue had far-reaching consequences for the Bush War. Without the charismatic and eloquent Savimbi, Unita would have been leaderless because there was no one of similar stature to take over from him. The Unita grouping would probably have splintered into separate gangs and poachers with no visible cohesive factor, as well as no external support.

Because Savimbi and his leadership element were snatched away from under the enemy’s noses, so to speak, Unita could develop and grow as an ally of South Africa. Had the enemy captured Savimbi, they would certainly have locked him up or maybe sentenced him to death. His capture would have changed the entire situation around the Bush War. With Savimbi at liberty, he was able to remobilise Unita and take over the whole of eastern Angola. This kept Swapo away from the South West African border and consequently prolonged the war.

According to Blaauw, MI later confirmed that the MPLA had mentioned to a military intelligence agent in London that they would undoubtedly have captured Savimbi if the South Africans had not extracted him that evening. They knew where he was and would have struck the following morning.