Episode 85 – Small teams missions behind enemy lines and the courage of 7 Med

Welcome back to South African Border Wars with me, your host, Der Sleith, and this is Episode 85. We've heard about one wreckie and four wreckie in the covert walkthrough out the series and at times I've included the voices or the individual stories where possible. Unfortunately, there's not enough space and time to include everyone's personal views or their memories. However, in this episode, I'm going to concentrate on two specific special forces members because they epitomized two different aspects of the South Africans who were involved in this 23-year war. The first instance is one that is chilling and horrific where MPLA soldiers let their base instincts take over when they realised they weren't getting what they wanted and led to the torture and execution of seven medical battalion corporal Bruce Feetler in September 1985. The other illuminates the visceral and tactical elements of operating in an African bush scenario behind enemy lines. We'll join Chris Stadler a year later in late 1986 as he collected reconnaissance information as an operator. First, Bruce Feetler. His story exemplifies courage and has a more recent resonance because the unity fought in the seventh medical battalion was involved in the infamous attack on South African paratroopers in the Central African Republic town of Bangui in 2013. For those who don't know this story just a quick reminder, the essay India was involved in peacekeeping operations in Central Africa and 200 paratroopers were surrounded in Bangui by at least 3,000 rebels. In a two-day battle, 13 essay India parabattes died, but remarkably they were thought to have killed up to 800 rebels, all this without artillery, armour or air support. Afterwards, corporal Mantler Maxwell and Gobesi of Seven Med was awarded the essay India's leopard decorations, and like his predecessor Bruce Feetler, his was a case of extreme courage under fire. One of my listeners recently suggested that I focus on Feetler's story because it's extraordinary. Feetler was a medical orderly in the essay DF's Seven Med which he joined after matriculating in 1980 from Florida Park High School and ended up an operational medic with special forces training. He was part of Operation Magneto, which began in August 1985 where the essay DF and other units provided support to Unita and Southern Angola. It was part of the response to the MPLA's advance towards Mavinga, which you've heard about, and Feetler was among a team of medics, including doctors that Unita leader Jonas Savimbi had requested as the battles raged. The rebel movement had very little in the way of medical facilities, and as the fight for Mavinga dragged on, Savimbi asked Pretoria to succond medical teams to his units. And so after Operation Magneto formally ended in August, Feetler remained inside Southern Angola as an ops medic. On the 9th of 14th of September 1985, 21-year-old Corporal Bruce Feetler was riding on a convoy of two vehicles carrying two dozen Unita fighters and four essay DF officers, including artillery officers. The platoon of MPLA soldiers ambushed them with RPGs and AKs. Virtually all the Unita troops were killed, and two artillery officers and Feetler were wounded. Feetler was apparently too badly wounded to move, and the two artillery officers trying to drag him off the back of one of the trucks so they could make a rescape in the dark. But the incoming fire was too intense, and they were forced to leave him behind. In the dark, a handful of Unita and three essay DF men made their escape. Both the men who tried to save Feetler were awarded the Honourous Crooks for their heroism. But Feetler was captured still alive, and then subjected to what is described as extreme torture, when the MPLA tried to get him to reveal what he knew about the position of the artillery and other units fighting in the south. He knew the main surgical station with his comrades from 7 Med was a short distance away. He was also aware of the details of troop movements and material. Despite their horrific wounds he sustained by his captors, he refused to talk, and eventually he was executed, taking vital information to the grave. Meanwhile the nearby triage station staff evacuated, he bought them time. Feetler received the Honourous Crooks posthumously. His remains were eventually returned to South Africa 1992, according to some, the essay NDF never revealed the report into forensics investigations, as it would have been too distressing. "We revisit these stories as a reminder that we are really not worthy compared to these remarkable men." And with regards to the more recent story, there's a book called The Battle of Bangui by investigative journalist Warren Thompson, Stephen Hofstutter, and James Oetwer published in 2021 that is worth a read. Perhaps one of these days will get a movie about that incident. Changing gear and moving forward to where we left off last episode on the 25th of October 1886, the whole of five rakey had been congregated in Oshavello training area just north east of it Toshapan. Having spent time in the bush there myself, it is like any other part of a vumberland, hot, flat, full of thorn bushes and snakes, where the dust hangs in the air at dusk encodes your equipment, jamming automatic raffles and sticking in your throat. This is just across the red line area which divides the farmlands to the south, including the triangle of death from the operational area in the north closer to the Kaplan. The rakeys were training for something called Operation Colosseum, which was a plan that tacked deep into Angola on Swapu HQ in their eastern front. I'm using Quist Studler's excellent book called Reki, small team missions behind enemy lines as reference, along with other source material for this episode. Stadler was going to be inserted close to Swapu HQ with his colleague Rezae de Costa as a two-man intel gathering team a week before the assault force. The Costa is a fascinating person, nicknamed Mr. T, after the character in the TV show the A-Team and fitting the description apparently barrel-chested not to be tripled with, although unlike the A-Team character he didn't have a Mohican haircut. The Costa was born in Lobito of a Portuguese father and Angola and mother, and during the civil war his family had been broken up by the fighting, he and his sister fled to southwest Africa. He was a war refugee and his story was repeated by many other Angolans who were forced to flee their homeland. The Costa had been with the young Bradenbach when three two battalion was launched and was based for a time at Buffalo in the Western Capri, he moved to Essay Special Forces in 1981 and was trained as a rakey at Palabor in 1982, and from a group of thirty he was one of only six who passed that extreme course. The Costa was transferred to part three commander and moved to five rakey to be part of the newly established unit training in small teams missions. Stadler and the Costa began training together in 1986, prepping for the upcoming up to search for Swappers HQ. They fine-tuned their weapons and equipment, packing and testing radios, memorizing maps and other information. They rehearsed escape and evasion maneuvers and other bush tricks. The rakeys were brilliant at night fighting, those who can move in the dark even when facing troops with night vision goggles are the soldiers who control tactics. The Essay Air Force capacity to fly at night was also an advantage over the Angolan Air Force. It's no surprise to hear what Carl van Klaasvers says about fighting at night. The order of things, he says, are inevitably disturbed. Not only that, but fundamentally every night attack is a form of surprise, but is also extremely difficult to be successful in any night action. That puts an end to pursuit, even when the battle has been decided. There is time to rest and rally or to conduct a march in advance. This was the core logic of the South Africans to move at night. The next day always brings a fresh experience as long as you allow for summer rest along the way. And by 1986, South African Special Forces had taken to wearing Swappers webbing because it was lightweight, but Stadler and the Costa decided they'd continue to heft the official Recky small team big pack because this had aluminium frames and was far more comfortable than Swappers' simple webbing with really heavy stuff on board. There was no cooking for these two once they were across the borders, so there was no need for gas stoves or bulky cylinders. There was no tin-food carried on, only zap meat, a kind of sausage, as well as energy bars and peanuts. They stored vitamin-enriched energy drinks and up to 80% of the total weight on their backs was the water that had to carry along. By the time these two were ready to go, their packs weighed in at close to 80 kg. The Costa or Mr. T to his friends carried the HF radio and they walked with Stadler in front, the Costa slightly to his right and 30 metres back. They were going to travel at night and a half moon was forecast. Ideal for reconnaissance because the team would have some light for the first half of the night march and then no moon in the early morning hours. That was usually the time they were closest or would be closest to their target and no moon meant pitch darkness, which was good news for the two slinking apart in the dark. They'd be inserted by a group of special force operators in three uni-mogs, which would leave the unit base around 60 km from the target area and travel for 20 km towards where they thought the Swappers HQ was supposed to be situated. The Costa and Stadler were tasked with identifying its location precisely. As they rehearsed for this special insertion, there were a few problems with comms. It would be forced to communicate via the radio commsmen sitting at the rakey six section regimental HQ, which would relay messages as required to other units. That wasn't ideal. It was better to have a dedicated line and support signals, frequencies and so on. Now they were sharing time, but after they practiced the codes and processes, it was decided to go ahead. Officer Cmoney, a five-recky Colonel James Hills, led the briefing for the full attack, which would follow the reconnaissance mission. A large sand model of the region had been built under a tent canopy. Intelligence officer Major Dave Drew explained the specific threats in five-one commander intelligence expert Captain Larabi Blake outlined the target briefing of Swapu's eastern front HQ, while the entire five-recky and elements of 101 battalion and two-recky reserves gathered around. The main attack was going to be led by Major Duncan Reichart's five-two commander, supported by 101 battalion and two-recky. Five-three commander and a Major Nick Dutoy was going to be deployed as stoppers north of the base. Once Stadler and Acosta had located it, of course. A mortar platoon would also offer fire support. Intelligence believed the eastern front HQ was a typical guerrilla base up to 350 cadres lived there, and the defense included a couple of 82 millimeter mortars, three 60 millimeter mortars, and at least three DSHK 12.7 millimeter anti-aircraft machine guns, as well as a seven-shoulder-fired missiles. Swapu also had early warning posts deployed at least four kilometers to the east and the south of the base, and they were patrolling constantly the wreckies referred to these as hunting patrols. By now, the SDD have knew that this base was close to a southward flowing river with a small track passing east-west through it. This was the intersection the Acosta and Stadler needed to find. The new roughly where it was based on radio intercepts and Swapu cadres who'd been captured and interrogated, but other than that, a guest that was probably inside an area around 50 kilometers square. That's a lot of area to recon, as you're going to hear the search was going down to the wire. The Acosta and Stadler's role was to pinpoint this base exactly, and to determine where the assault force should form up, the direction it should attack, and positions for both the mortars and the stomper group. Stadler privately thought that his small team of two had maybe bitten off more than they could chew, because he and Acosta had a scanned six days to do all of the above. Just to add an extra dimension to this insertion, Fupta's three fire brigade was at Tecumutiti, which was 60 kilometers north west of the target, and the Angolan army had also stationed tactical groups at Kasinger and Kuvalai west and south west. Then there was an entire Cuban regiment at a small town in the north, and the Angolan Air Force was operating out of Menong 80 kilometers away to the north east. All in all, this was going to be an extremely difficult wrecky, let alone the follow-up assault. The column departed in the early morning of the 3rd of November, and by first light, they were close to the cutline west of the Kubunga River. They crossed that night with a logistics section in tow, everyone joining up north of the border later, and then they traveled along a unita route to the forward-based 60 kilometers east of the target area. Stadler and Acosta would then move forward in the Unimogs while the attacking force stayed where they were, the pressure was on. This was one of the first attacks the SADF were going to launch where the initial wrecky was going to lead directly to an assault. Usually, there would be correlating intel gathering photography, second missions, double checks, and here, if the two man team was rumbled, that would be the end of the entire assault. Stadler brought this up with Colonel Hills, who phobbed him off with a line, "Fuspate, Quasi, Iguietila, Can, hang on there, Quasi, I know you can." When Stadler continued arguing, Hills cut him short, the bases there, and you'll find it. Pretty much, that's an order. Even if they didn't find it, Hills said the assault force would begin moving in the direction after six days, anyway. So, four days later, the mobile assault force arrived at Unitas' forward base. The rebel commander there was not a happy chap. He had a large group of special forces bristling with machine guns and mortars roving around his territory. With all the revving and smoke-and-dust, the South Africans could give away his base. And with the Angolan Migs and attack helicopters only 80 kilometers away in Manong, you could understand his concerns. He didn't want the SADF attracting undue attention to his unit. While that was being sorted out, the Costa and Stadler leapt aboard one of the Unimogs, and they headed off towards with the SADF intelligence. Thought Swappers HQ was likely to be, for their insertion. After 20 kilometers, they stopped at last light. So far, no tracks, no sound of line. The clock began ticking on the sixth day Ricky. They climbed off, the vehicles withdrew, and the two men walked along the Unimog tracks, hiding their prints, and get stuck fast, and after obscuring their tracks, the Costa and Stadler moved off into the Undergrowth. Then it was dark, but a half moon rose. The sound of the Unimogs drifted away until all was quiet. Using the moonlight, they covered around 15 kilometers that night and into the morning, constantly deploying anti-tracking movement techniques, but that also slowed them down. The moon set at 2am, so they stopped for a few hours' sleep. At dawn, they were on the move again, now using the rising sun behind them. Travelling in the bush or open felt, using a rising sun makes sense because your foe is blended. By mid-morning, they stopped. They'd found those spooers, no sound of life. They set up a hide, listening and watching. Hours later, as the sun began to dip in late afternoon, explosions could be heard far away in the westly direction. Stadler took a bearing and logged it, drawing the direction on his map. They couldn't continue their search yet. The sun was now very much against them, at dangerous time, so they waited until the rares were shielded by the tree line, then set off again. Once again, they moved fast, continuing well into the night, where the moon shone brightly once more, and they repeated their previous night's actions, sleeping at two up at dawn. Eventually, they ran into swamped tracks, but these were some days old. Still, they're now put on the anti-tracking booties, and by mid-morning had stopped again. Explosions thudded once more in the late afternoon. Mortar practice whispered to Costa. Stadler logged the direction. They both decided to approach the area in a series of angled movements, rather than straight in, first passing the target. Then they turned and moved towards it. This would be above all the most dangerous parts of their assignment. Night fell, they stalked Swapu, but still no sign of the space, although they found fresh tracks. The next day, they were all before dawn, and then later they heard AK-47s firing and logged the direction, which was now slightly south. That night, they moved north-west of the bearing, past the hot area. Then they heard vehicles. This moving trigonometry exercise had paid off. At first light, a morning fall, they were hidden in the thicket, backpanks out of the way, carrying only a little food and water, radio antenna up and camouflaged. They knew that a patrol could pop up at any moment, but they also knew that a stationary team had the advantage in this situation. In the flat countryside, even with the bush about, a moving patrol, or even a moving individual, isn't variably the first to be seen. Also, there's no advantage to climbing a tree for looking out. All that would happen is that you'd be blinded by the tree canopy, and you'll expose yourself at the same time. If they tried to move towards Swapu's base, they'd run into the same problem. They'd set up their own layup position with a clear view for themselves, so the fourth they passed. Now they had less than 48 hours to find the base. Stadler radio decoded message explaining what they'd seen so far. Backage uniters forward base, Colonel Hills was frustrated and replied, "You need your getting restless. Have to move in two days. Skame baller." Which means foam balls, which are generated between a horse's butt when it heats up, so the message was hurry up. That night, they moved from their north-westerly bearing to due west, but slowly now, the base was very close. The moon was behind them and advantage, but only if someone was stationary directly in front of them. They skipped from shadow to shadow, slow, painstaking stuff, anti-tracking with every step, using only hand signals. It took them some hours to cover three kilometers. Stadler reckoned the base was still further south, so they stopped and quietly discussed next steps. They decided to keep the heavy backpacks on as they crept closer towards Swapu's base. A few hours later, the moon set and they stashed the heavy backs, now they were travelling light. As first light broke, they stealthily approached where they believed Swapu was based, only managing a few hundred meters slowly listening out. They had now come across numerous tracks, and they'd also discovered many tree trunks, a tell-tale sign of the base nearby, but still, no Swapu. The sun was up, it was too light to continue, they withdrew to where they'd hidden their packs and laid up once more. Day 5. They radioed hills who was beside himself, and he pointed out that the force was going to attack the next day, come what may. As the sun set, they kitted up and used a technique known as caterpillaring to patrol its snail's pace. It works like this. The caster would move forward with his light webbing, then returned to pick up the heavy pack, and both would move forward to the caster's last position with heavy packs. Stadler would put down his heavy pack and move forward with only his light webbing, and he returned. and so on, catapillary. At midnight there was no sign of Swapa. Maybe they had missed the base. Was it west of their position? Time was running out. Still no sign of the river, nor the track that was supposed to run east west through the base. They rested that night, and just before dawn and day six, moved off in light order, stashing their heavy pangs to enable quicker movement. They turned south, then west, and there in the half-light they hit the jackpot. A road ran east west, and it was covered with fresh tracks, which all headed east away from the base. An early morning patrol from Swapa had just passed, so they turned west, then spotted the river. They had found the junction intelligence had mentioned, the junction between the river and the road. This was the floodplain across which Swapa's arc of fire would be drained. They still couldn't see the base itself. So, in the early morning light, the two began leopard crawling in the short grass towards the river line when a Swapa patrol of five men suddenly walked into view. They didn't see the wreckies lying prone nearby, and continued their patrol along the river line south. A close call indeed. Then, the costants that had heard a car door slam followed by men laughing. The two lay there, listening and trying to size up the base using the sounds. Then they crawled back to the treline, making sure to leave no drag marks on the wet grass, the morning dew had fallen. There, it's through two kilometres, and then reported on the radio that, "Base found enemy number unknown, need one day and not to confirm." Hill's voice came through on the edge of radio urgent, "If not frantic. Negative. Negative. No time. I need you here tomorrow morning. We are moving tomorrow." The costal looked at Sadler. 60 kilometres to go, enemy all around, and they were supposed to be back at Jeanita's position in 24 hours. As night fell, once more, the two began to pick up speed away from the Swapa base, anti-tracking as they went, and ended up almost trotting along as they drew further away from Swapa's base. By daybreak, they'd covered 30 kilometres, a remarkable feat. They were also back where they'd been dropped off around six days before. As they waited for the Unimogs, and just to make sure they weren't going to be shot by friendly fire, Sadler took off his shirt, exposing his farmers tan so that fire-recky troops didn't shoot them by mistake. The Unimogs finally showed up meant morning to pick up the two after a successful stint of small team machining. What happened next is for episode 86. Please rate the podcast on iTunes, it helps raise the visibility of the series. If you want to contact me, you can head off to abwarpodcast.com, there's a contact form in the homepage, or direct message me on Twitter, @daisytham. Until next, ciao. [Music]