PHILOSOPHIZING IN THE OVAMBOLAND BUSH; THEN DISASTER STRUCK … (Thoughts of an ex-policeman about the then South-West African border war).

Brig Fanie Bouwer

Abstract

Philosophizing in the Ovamboland bush; then disaster struck … (Thoughts of an ex-policeman about the then South-West African border war).

Keywords

B.J. Vorster

Buddy

Casspir

Counterinsurgency

Ongha

Oshakati

Ovamboland

RPG missile

South African Police

South West Africa

SWAPO

A Hot Day in Ovamboland – (actually the Oshana region).

Before South West Africa (Namibia) gained independence, we struggled through the dense Ovambo bush with our Caspir vehicles on a scorching hot day. It was the year 1982.

I was a young police captain serving in counterinsurgency operations. SWAPO was our enemy in this terrorist war.

I use the word ‘terrorists’, as we referred to our enemy at the time. They again referred to themselves as guerrillas or freedom fighters. It can be said that they eventually gained political freedom.

It was a quiet day, and we were on our way back to our base, Ongha, just south of Angola in Ovamboland, and south of Ohangwena.

Philosophizing About the War

As we slowly moved through the bush, I found myself lost in thought—reflecting on what I was doing, the political situation there, and the broader situation in Southern Africa.

I asked myself whether, one day, when I looked back at my ‘service’ as a policeman- partially forced into being a quasi-soldier- I would consider it worthwhile.

On that note, which other civilian police force in the world was as well-trained in (bush) warfare or counterinsurgency as the South African Police of that time? Perhaps the Rhodesians back then.

I had already been keenly aware of what was happening in South Africa and beyond. For years, I had been an avid newspaper reader with a strong interest in current affairs – especially politics, which remains a passion to this day.

I thought about Mozambique, which had also gained independence after a bush war. I thought about Zimbabwe, which had become independent a few years earlier – a country where the South African Police had also fought against their freedom fighters.

Prime Minister B.J. Vorster later intensified the political pressure on the Rhodesian government to negotiate with the black political groupings in the country. Members of the South African Police (SAP) who assisted in the bush war there were also withdrawn.

So, what was the point of it all then, I thought?

I wondered what South West Africa’s position would be in the near future. As I write here Namibia has just recently chosen their third democratic elected president.

A Decision to Drive the Casspir

I had never driven a Casspir before. At that point, we were traveling in convoy along the water pipeline, heading toward the gravel road between the two police bases.

A few minutes later, I decided to drive the Casspir back to our base, which was a couple of kilometers further on. I was simply in the mood for it at that moment.

Next to me, in the passenger seat, sat a so-called “buddy.” He was a local (Ovambo) who had been trained as a special constable to assist us in searching for terrorists in the bush. These men were excellent trackers and stayed with us at the base.

At some point, I started following the deep tracks left in the sand by the Casspir ahead of us.

Without holding the steering wheel, the Casspir simply followed the front vehicle’s tracks in the deep sand. I did this to amuse the “buddy” next to me. From the corner of my eye, I could see him staring at me in amazement, watching how I steered without actually touching the steering wheel.

Or perhaps the “buddy” thought the captain was a pretty “cool” guy. But not for long …

Disaster Strikes

The next moment, there was a deafening explosion. Our Casspir had triggered the so-called double cheese mine with its right front wheel – something we only realized later.

The blast was so powerful that our Casspir landed a few paces away, flipped onto its roof.

A strange detail about this incident was that the landmine had not detonated when the front vehicle drove over it.

Our guardian angel must have been with us that day, as none of the policemen who had been sitting on the roof of the Casspir – a bad habit I was sometimes guilty of as well – ended up beneath the overturned vehicle. Instead, they were thrown several meters away from the vehicle.

Several men were seriously injured, and I had to call helicopters from Oshakati to evacuate them for medical treatment.

More Trouble That Night

Our problems for the day didn’t end there. That evening, a warrant officer suffered a kidney stone attack. I thought he was dying – or at least, it seemed that way to us.

Once again, now in the middle of the night, I had to call for a helicopter to evacuate him to the hospital in Oshakati.

The helicopter pilots were usually unimpressed by such requests, as they feared that flying at night make them easy targets for an RPG missile attack or something similar.

And so, another day in Ovamboland came to an end.