Chapter 7

The end of Support Group – A new Commando

Those first bush trips with Sp Gp were an education all of its own ... We had a Sgt that when he lost his temper you needed a translator – He was a South African guy from the Cape so that should say it all to those who have ever been to that strange city ... Those first months were a little harsh in some aspects as we had an OC that left a lot to be desired and an alcoholic CSM ... The rest of the guys left over after the mass transfer to Scouts were all decent guys and we given a couple of NS Subbies (1^st Lt) that were social animals but knew stuff all of the bush ... My mentor and the guy that taught me a lot was nicknamed Fingers as he was missing a few digits ... Him and Vawn took me under their wings and in those first months and I learnt, how to cook, bush craft, Tracking, OP's and other things...

How to cook you may ask? – Today's soldier is spoilt (questionable) with MRE's and instant Sadza so you may think I am a little nuts ... Remember this is mid 70's and everything came out of a can or a packet ... A small Gaz stove (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_the_portable_gas_stove ), a mess tin and a tin or two and you had a good meal if you knew what you were doing – OK we has powdered Mash Potato but even that was an art to do right...

We still went on bush trips but were not to impressive as a fighting force but actually the guys did some fine work ... We still carried the 81mm mortars around but because of the mine problems they had taken away our F250 and Chev C10's ... The loss of these was heartbreaking but we wouldn't drive them in the bush anyway as they were not mine proofed ... I was on about my second or third bush trip when we lost my good friend Vawn ... It was a tragic accident that still to this day haunts my memories...

We responded to a mission being attacked and we were to be deployed around it to start searching for spoor etc – On the approach to the Mission there was a concrete causeway across the river – Vawn, as usual going a little fast, slid the RL off into the water on the side of the causeway, and the RL rolled partially on to its side under the water – unfortunately Vawn got his foot jammed between a rock and the fender of the RL with his head barely inches below the water – Fingers and Johnny boy worked like demons trying to breathe for him while the rest of us tried to move 5 tons of sandbagged RL – Unfortunately we failed as we couldn't even find a pipe to use as a snorkel, and to watch someone drown with their head barely inches below the surface left all of us second guessing ourselves as to what we should have done for years and years – a very tragic ending to a guy who was a natural bushman – he could speak Shona and Matabele better than a local and was an exceptional tracker – RIP old friend...