The Act Of Remembrance: 11 November
November 8, 2026
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
In Flanders Fields
by John McCrae
In Flanders’ fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place: and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Special Remembrance: The Last Flight of Puma 164 Mapai, Gaza Province 6 September 1979
October 7, 2026
Just felt like remembering my fallen Brothers again – they deserve it – RIP Brave Ones
A week before the ink would dry
in some cold London room
we went in hard through Mozambique
to deal our final wound
The clouds were thick the mission clear
the bridges marked for flame
to choke the lines to stall the guns
to kill the serpent’s name
Twelve Pumas thumped through grey and green
a heartbeat in the sky
while boots and rifles filled the holds
and none of us asked why
Among them flew old 164
a spare pulled into line
replacing Cheetah lost at Barragem
just yesterday in fire and time
Then from the trees a single man
with hate behind his eye
raised an RPG and loosed the shot
that tore through flesh and sky
She buckled fast she fell like stone
no time to scream or pray
just impact silence Mozambique
and seventeen gone that day
No rescue reached them in the smoke
no angels caught their fall
but somewhere God stood still and watched
and took them one and all
They never made it home to rest
no flags no folded grace
just comrades later tracking back
to find the crash site place
And there they left a cross of wood
a marker in the sand
for men who fought like lions
and died in foreign land
So read these names and know them well
they gave their final breath
in service silence and in flame
they met an honored death
Roll of Honour – Puma 164
124307 Trooper Jacobus Briel
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
781343 Second Lieutenant Bruce Burns
Rhodesian Corps of Engineers
730092 Trooper Aiden Colman
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
123929 Trooper Jeremy Crow
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
780949 Captain Johannes du Plooy
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
79641 Corporal LeRoy Duberly
Rhodesian Corps of Engineers
119928 Trooper Brian Enslin
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
64081 Lance Corporal Peter Fox
Rhodesian Corps of Engineers
729689 Corporal Gordon Fry
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
94444 Sergeant Michael Jones
Rhodesian Corps of Engineers
729937 Trooper Stephen King
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
123027 Trooper Colin Neasham
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
730099 Trooper David Prosser
1 Commando Rhodesian Light Infantry
781013 Captain Charles Small
Rhodesian Corps of Engineers
74299181 Lieutenant Nigel Osborne
19 Squadron South African Air Force
66252610PE Sergeant Dirk Retief
19 Squadron South African Air Force
70388152PK Captain Paul Velleman
19 Squadron South African Air Force
With special acknowledgement to Beaver Shaw……..Rhodesian Air Force…….legendary door gunner, author and poet
Op Uric: We Remember Mapai (47th Anniversary)
September 6, 2026
A sad day in the history of the Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, The Rhodesian Light Infantry, and the South African Air Force. Today Sunday 6th September 2026 marks the 47th anniversary of the downing of Puma 164.
The South African Airforce Puma, call-sign Hotel 4, was hit behind the pilot’s seat, causing it to crash and burst into flames. Nine of the dead were Rhodesian Light Infantry (RLI) (Joe du Plooy, Gordon Fry, Jacobus Briel, Aiden Colman, Jeremy Crow, Brian Enslin, Steven King, Colin Neasham, David Prosser), 5 from the Rhodesian Corps of Engineers (RhE) (Charlie Small, Bruce Burns, Michael Jones, LeRoy Duberly, Peter Fox) and the Souyh African Air Force Crew (SAAF) air crew of 3 (Captain Paul Vellerman, Lieutenant Nigel Osborne and Flight Sergeant Dick Retief).
2nd Lieutenant Bruce Frazer BURNS, 1 Squadron, Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, KIA. Killed when shot down by an RPG7 in a Puma helicopter at Mapai, Mozambique on Op Uric.
Corporal LeRoy DUBERLY, 1 Squadron, Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, KIA. Killed when shot down by an RPG7 in a Puma helicopter at Mapai, Mozambique on Op Uric.
Lance Corporal Peter FOX, 1 Squadron, Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, KIA. Killed when shot down by an RPG7 in a Puma helicopter at Mapai, Mozambique on Op Uric.
Sergeant Michael Alan “Mick” JONES, 1 Squadron, Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, KIA. Killed when shot down by an RPG7 in a Puma helicopter at Mapai, Mozambique on Op Uric.
Captain Charles David “Charlie” SMALL, Rhodesian Corps of Engineers, Army HQ, KIA. Killed when shot down by an RPG7 in a Puma helicopter at Mapai, Mozambique on Op Uric.
We Remember Them…….As Long As We Say Their Names, They will Never Die.
So many of my 1 Squadron mates taken from us that day. Rest In Eternal Peace Brothers.

Acknowledgments to Terry Griffin and Rhodesian Corps of Engineers Facebook Page
Piss Poor Planning: The Debacle at Nyahuku (Part 3)
July 22, 2026
Arriving at Kotwa Airfield the next morning, we finally married up with the 2 Squadron contingent, after our night stop at Mtoko. This was quite an impressive group with another 30 or so personnel, including a full Lieutenant (TF), a Regular Senior Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO) and a mix of Regular and TF Junior NCO’s. They had based up in a shady area, a distance from the runway, sheltering from the already fierce heat. We squeezed our little convoy in as best we could and after the usual inter-squadron piss-taking, I joined the others of the leader group for a briefing from the Lieutenant. He began by apologising for not waiting for us at Mtoko as was the arrangement, however once again there was a communications breakdown with no one really knowing what they were doing there and for what reason – and they decided to leave mid-afternoon for Kotwa and to be fair I would have probably done the same. We must have been more convincing on arrival at Mtoko, as we were provided with a space to bed down, fuel for our vehicles, and use of the canteen. 1 Squadron was always better at conjuring up a weasel story.
The briefing was not very detailed and it was over in less than 15 minutes. The only bit of good news was that the Tsetse Fly Men – see https://fatfox9.net/2014/01/10/the-fly-men-of-cordon-sanitaire/, had already set up their camp and there was space for our tents too. The camp was not far from the Cordon Sanitaire service road, so not too far to travel to start with – in the meantime the Fly Men would continue getting the fences sorted. There was no news on our logistics so it was another day of tinned equivalent – but we knew the Fly Men could shoot for the pot so we might just get the leftover scraps of a kudu. This was to prove wishful thinking on my part.
Among those on this mission was a regular Corporal by the name of Jimmy Datson. He had come over from UK and was a former member of 9 Para Engineers. The story has it that he caused so much shit at 9 Para that they got rid of him – I have since confirmed this story with individuals who served with him in the UK. In any event, we all make shit – just some of us don’t get caught. Jimmy and I got on really well and stuck together most of the time – mainly because we both had the same sense of dark, dry humor. And so it was that the two of us jumped onto the same vehicle and started the dusty journey from Kotwa to Nyahuku and after strapping on our safety harnesses, lit up a Madison, and prepared ourselves for whatever was coming down the track.
The journey to Nyahuku was unremarkable – same rocking from side to side motion, dust mixing with sweat on our faces, and the relentless heat beating down on our overheating brains. A man daydreams on these journeys even though one eye is always alert to anything that seems out of place within the moving landscape that passes alongside the vehicle…….stinging, grit-filled eyes scanning through cover like they taught us an eternity ago during basic training. Looking for gooks……looking for the bad guys hoping to deliver us a world of pain.
The convoy started to slow as we approached a selection of buildings, collectively known as a business centre. There were many of these throughout the Rhodesian bush. They normally consisted of one large shop with battered and rusty Sparletta and Coca Cola signs nailed up outside, and a few other structures. A notice announcing that ice-cold drinks were available inside acted as a magnet to travel wary troops and we were soon swarming towards the entrance – ensuring we left a few of the lads to stand watch – we would look after them and they knew it. Looking up at the shop I noticed it had a name as well – Adam Foyas General Dealer. Little did I know that we would become very attached to Mr Adam Foya – he was destined to become our unofficial logistic supply officer. Sadly by the time my crew managed to get to the drinks fridge (one of those paraffin operated models) there was only warm cream soda left, and a few cherry plums. I bought some in any case and handed them out to the troops on my vehicle……..it was difficult to drink as the luke-warm aerated liquid exploded in ones mouth, blasting green juice through your nostrils, and causing a stinging sensation in the back of your brain. It was still better than the warm plastic tasting liquid from our water bottles that would be the alternative though – compared to that, cream soda in the nostrils was not so bad.
Adam Foyas was not far from our destination and after a further 20 minutes travel we arrived at what was to become arguably one of the most badly supported operations that I had the misfortune to take part in.
It was late afternoon, and as the Tsetse Fly Men had been there for some time they were nicely organised, their dark green Isuzu trucks and a Land Rover nicely parked up near the area they had chosen as their piece of the camp-site. Over the next few hours we set about putting our tents up, which included one for the HQ and a kitchen/ mess area. We would get a good nights sleep and sort out our kit in the morning.
Jitter Patrols With The Selous Scouts
July 1, 2025
Those of you that have read previous posts within this blog will recall the S Troop escapades. Although we often operated alone, on a number of occasions we were seconded to Special Forces. This post recalls an interesting little mission that I took part in with the Selous Scouts. It is important to note right at the beginning of this post that nothing within it should be construed as implying that I was a Selous Scout…….I was not. We were adding boots on the ground when these supreme warriors needed some extra fire-power or close Combat Engineer support.
At the time that this operation took place, I was based with Greys Scouts at Tswiza, together with a couple of other S Troop guys. Our primary task was a daily vehicle patrol along a dirt road (drag-road) South of Tswiza that ran in a North-East direction from Nyala, and parallel to the Mozambique border. During these patrols we would drag tyres attached to a sturdy triangular metal framework behind our vehicle. The purpose of this activity was twofold. Firstly to check for any ground-sign (soil disturbance) indicating that the enemy had crossed over the road within the previous 24 hours, and secondly to “drag” the road with the abovementioned metal framework on the return journey to smooth the road surface, making it easier to see any tracks on our next patrol. It was a simple but effective bit of improvisation.
One afternoon I was called to the Greys CO’s office and told to get my Sappers ready for a special mission the next day. There would be no drag-road task in the morning, and we were to wait for further instructions.
Around mid-morning of the next day, a small column of 5 or so Selous Scout vehicles pulled up next to our camp in a cloud of dust and diesel fumes. There was an assortment of vehicles including a “Pig” which was an armoured-up Unimog with a variety of weaponry onboard, most noticeably a 20mm cannon. There was also a couple of plain Unimog’s with mounted 12,7 and 7,62 MAG’s. They were hard men manning these vehicles, dressed in a variety of uniform combinations, longer than regulation hair and thick bushy beards. They looked the business and it was little wonder that the gooks were terrified when they came across them.
Another quick conversation with the Greys and Selous Scout boss men and I was off to places unknown with my 2 mates – being told to ride on the front vehicle. A few kilometers down the road toward Vila Salazar the vehicle commander, who I took to be the mission commander ordered a halt, and the vehicles found suitable rest-up positions and engines were switched off……again the pinging of cooling metal, the sudden silence.
The leader of the Selous Scouts called the three of under a tree and told us to sit down – he wanted to brief us on what was going on. The guys at Vila Salazar were getting pissed-off with the Freddies (Frelimo) stonking them with mortars – in fact we had had a number of KIA in the past. Our mission was to see if we could terminate the Frelimo guy who was doing their fire-control. It was believed that this guy climbed high up into a blue gum tree that was located in a plantation south west of Vila Salazar base – just inside Mozambique. Having been briefed we remounted and were told to each choose a MAG from the weapons lying on the floor of the vehicle and we were off.
Just short of Vila Salazar we turned left and travelled about 150 meters along the base perimeter fence and stopped. We were shown the gum trees and told to dismount and take up prone positions with our MAGs and ammo belts (with spares) along the fence. Our task was to spray the blue gum trees with as many rounds as possible until we ran out of ammo. One of the Scouts would initiate the firing with a 12,7mm.
Being close up to so many weapons firing at close range was damn noisy. Every one firing at the blue gum trees. Branches and leaves fell to the ground as our weapons pumped round after round into them. AKs, PKMS and all manner of weapons hammered away for about 10 minutes until we either ran out of ammo or the Scout leader gave the command to cease firing.
I never saw anyone fall out of a blue gum tree screaming on the way down unfortunately. I do remember seeing that where I had been firing through the diamond mesh fence, a number of strands had been shot through, forming an oval shape gap in the wire.
With no further ado we remounted the vehicles and they drove us back to Tswiza.
I never heard another thing about this mission which were known as Jitter Patrols……..and I could imagine why.
The stonking of Vila Salazar continued though. So it would appear that we had not been successful on terminating that damned Freddy.
Mystery at the Morgue
September 11, 2024
For a time I was based with 4 Independent Company (4 Indep) at Wankie, and those familiar with this unit will remember that it was on top of a hill and on the left, as you came into Wankie from Bulawayo. 1 Engineer Squadron (1 RhE Bulawayo) maintained a small Forward HQ within this base with the task of providing Engineer logistic and operational support to our two sub-callsigns at Deka and Victoria Falls. We also supported the British South Africa Police (BSAP) and 4 Indep throughout the Operation Tangent theatre of operations, as and when required. Captain George Jenkinson was the commander (Sunray) of our little team, with me as his second in command (Sunray Minor). We also had a number of Sappers with us to do the heavy-lifting and man the radios (which were active 24/7). All-in-all we were a happy bunch who just got on with doing Sapper things.
The picture below shows the 4 Indep camp layout.

This particular morning (probably mid to late 1979) I was going through the radio messages to see if there was anything for immediate action when the telephone rang. Captain Jenkinson was away at the time on another mission so it was just me and the lads on deck. The caller was a Special Branch (SB) Inspector from Wankie BSAP. I had got to know him quite well and after exchanging the usual pleasantries he asked me to come down to his office as he had a job for me. Knowing SB it was probably going to be something dodgy, dangerous, or both. Little did I know that this would be one of the strangest tasks I would ever be asked to take part in.
Leaving one of the Sappers to hold the fort, I jumped into our Unimog and drove down to the police station, a short 10 minute drive. Entering the charge office I winked at one of the Woman Patrol Officers – they were all great girls and often played darts with us at No1 Club in Wankie. They definitely were not prudes. She waved me though to a side door that led to the back of the police station – this was where the SB offices were. A pair of dark green Series 3, 6-cylinder Land Rovers stood silently in their parking bays – both of them fitted with 2 x AK 47s – mounted transversely in the back, directly behind the cab. These could be fired from inside the cab by means of a solenoid in case of an ambush – spitting death left and right within the killing ground. Some vehicles had a third forward-firing AK mounted at the front in the engine bay. Very useful set-ups indeed. Whilst marveling at these instruments of death I heard a shout and someone cry out, obviously in pain. Not my business and I continued on my way towards a locked steel gate and rang the bell.
The SB Inspector took a long pull on his Madison cigarette, held out his hand for the regulatory handshake and offered me a seat opposite his desk. A large map covered with plastic was attached to the wall behind him – different color chino graph lines and secret symbols dotted its surface. I looked at him – these were hard men doing a hard job – never easy and always laced with danger and sudden death. Our conversation did not last very long and the gist of it was that I was to assist in identifying ammunition that had somehow ended up at the Wankie Hospital – a strange place for it to be I thought, but anything was possible. He never gave me any further details except the name of a contact person at the hospital and a warning that the task may take some time, and I needed to go there directly. I used his phone to let my people know not to expect me back until late, and after a few minutes of arranging to catch-up again soon I went on my way.
The Wankie Hospital was run by Anglo American. It was not big, but it was modern, clean and efficient. I had spent a few days there previously with malaria and found the treatment and staff excellent – the only downside being the constant moans of a Portuguese guy who had caught his arm in some kind of machine at the colliery, mangling it badly. He was in the same ward as me and I felt his pain – which must have been considerable- the nurses done their best for him but a person can only have so much morphine.
Having found my contact person and identifying myself, I was directed to the mortuary where I was told I would be met by one of the pathologists. This was becoming more and more bizarre, but I done as asked.
See below for location of mortuary at Wankie Hospital.

Before I was anywhere near the mortuary, I was struck by the sound of crying and wailing – lots of it and clearly there was something going on here. People do cry at a mortuary though so not too unexpected. What was unexpected was the amount of people milling around outside the mortuary, police officers doing their best to contain those trying to get into the building. Much shouting was taking place, finger-pointing at the police and then at me as I came into view. The police must have been warned that I was on my way as they ensured I got to the mortuary entrance without being mugged. On pressing the bell an African gentleman dressed in a surgical gown and plastic apron opened up and ushered me inside.
The site that greeted me is something that will be forever burned into my slowly fading memory. There were bodies everywhere. On the autopsy table, on the floor, on trolleys and in the fridges. I estimate that there must have been in the region of 20 bodies all-in-all. The smell of decomposition, blood, urine and faeces permeated the air – this was the smell of death. Some were wrapped in clear plastic, some in unzipped body-bags, and some simply lying on the floor.
There was hardly any space to move, but the man who looked to be in charge ushered me into a small office, and after thanking me for coming down explained what he needed from me. He turned out to be the only pathologist available in Wankie at the time and he sure seemed to have his hands full. He proceeded to brief me up. Apparently an African bus had been attacked the previous evening by persons unknown on one of the many bush roads within our operational area. The bus driver had been injured but managed to bring the bus to a safe stop on the road, whereby the attackers boarded and began firing at the passengers indiscriminately with automatic weapons. Dozens were injured and those I had just seen lying dead next door, were killed.
My readers should understand that during this period of the war, there were many actors vying for popularity with the local population, and I had learnt a long time ago that nothing was ever at it seemed – there was lot of smoke and mirrors and in fact sometimes you couldn’t see the mirrors. We had ZIPRA (Joshua Nkomo), ZANLA (Robert Mugabe), Bishop Abel Muzorewa and his crew, The Rhodesian Security Forces, the Monitoring Force, various intelligence services and probably other organisations I more than likely had never heard of. So it became an evil, cruel game, played between the actors with the aim of seeing who could look like the good guys. If that meant killing innocent bus passengers and getting the blame pinned on someone else, then that would do just fine. According to them, the means justified the end.
My mission was to assist in identifying who had carried out this attack – I’m not a pathologist so cannot make medical conclusions, but I can tell the difference between AK and FN ammunition. My job was therefore the following:
- Attend the post-mortem of each of the deceased
- Witness the removal of bullets and bullet-fragments from each body
- Where possible identify non-fragmented bullets as either AK or FN (wishful thinking)
- Ensure that each bullet or bullet-fragment was placed in its own sealed container for further analysis at a specialist facility (chain of custody was not my responsibility to maintain – this was a police responsibility as the investigating authority).
Each body had a brown tag on the big toe. Amazingly most of the victims had been identified by the teams that recovered them from the bus – the same team now carrying out a forensic investigation of the vehicle. I imagined what the interior looked like. Blood, bits of brain tissue, vomit and skull fragments – and the pitiful belongings of the deceased. Handbags, shopping bags, multi-coloured blankets, groceries and shoes. Shoes always seem to come off during a violent death. And of course, the cartridge cases.
And so we began the unpleasant task of examining each cadaver. Some were straightforward, with the bullet still in one piece within the body, some not so easy, especially where they had fragmented on bones, sending bits of bullet in all directions throughout the fleshy mass. It was then a matter of literally digging around in the flesh until the pieces were found. In other cases the bullets had exited the body cleanly and there was nothing to find. Each piece was put into a stainless steel tray for me to examine. There was very little blood considering the number of bodies and type of injury – all of the bleeding would have taken place on the bus.
There was no dignity for these poor souls – time was of the essence and the pathologist and his assistants stripped the victims until completely naked and hurriedly poked about inside the pink and red cavities of damaged flesh until they were satisfied they they had found everything they could. And then it was onto the next one. As most of the victims had been shot in the torso or chest, all of the bodies were cut open from neck to groin, and the chest cavities pulled open for examination. This was a brutal process beginning with a large scalpel incision from neck to pubis followed by the cutting of the sternum and ribs with what can only be described as bolt-cutters, allowing the the chest to be completely opened up. Others with head wounds and half a skull missing, brains left behind in the bus, staring, lifeless eyes hanging out, were quicker to process. It was grisly work and although I had seen my fair share of death and traumatic injuries over the years I was still shocked at what I was seeing. The small children were the hardest for all of us – probably going home with a new toy or clothes after a day out with mum and dad in the city. Now there was no tomorrow for them. No playing with their friends around the kraal, or helping to tend the goats and chickens – there was nothing for them. It was just so bloody sad.
As each body was completed the chest cavity was forced back into place, and sewn up by one of the assistants while the pathologist wrote up his report. The needle was thick as a finger and unlike anything else I had seen from a medical perspective – the gut used to make the stitches similar to brown string. The stitches were spaced widely apart and pulled tight to force the two sides of the chest together. There was no need for cosmetic considerations here. Once complete the body was taken to another area of the morgue, and I assume handed to the relatives waiting outside, as the volume of wailing and crying increased from time to time.
I guess some of the victims were terrorist sympathisers, either by choice or intimidation, but here and now they were human beings who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, the majority going about their business and hoping for a better future. That was all gone now – all that was left was for the pathologist and his team to cut them up, looking for little bits of metal which I tried my best to identify. It was, no matter how shocking, the right thing to do for them.
We continued well into the night and until all of the victims had been examined. No one was hungry. We had all opted to work until we had handed all of the remains back to the relatives. There were a few that no one claimed immediately, hopefully they would come tomorrow after the word spread.
It was past midnight when I finally left. All of the relatives had departed. A policeman stood guard at the door and I stood in the cool African night, breathing in deeply, the fresh air not helping to dissipate the the smell of death clinging to my clothes and deep in my nostrils. Walking to my Unimog I wondered what would become of the work we had done today. Would the effort prove useful or was it just a deceitful game of which I had now become part of?
Either way, I hoped that in some small way I would have helped these poor people obtain some form of justice, and closure for their loved ones.
Sadly, I would never find out.


