attack northwards. It began well, with the attackers making good progress, especially Bravo Company. This force was for a time stopped by heavy machine-gun fire, but the advance of the independent platoon in the north put paid to this.
Alpha came up against formidable defences, especially a mix of at least one 23-mm cannon and some 14,5-mm and 12,7-mm heavy machine guns, which, together with other light machine guns, pinned the South Africans down under a hail of fire. From the north, the defenders’ escape route was now cut off, so they stood and fought where they were – either with the desperation of fear or considerable bravery. With accurate rifle and mortar fire, the South Africans killed the SWAPO gun crews several times, but again and again there was no shortage of defenders to take their dead comrades’ places and continue firing. Each time the attackers thought the guns were silenced, only to hear the deadly staccato stuttering resume after a few seconds.
In the end, Breytenbach sent two platoons from his reserve in Delta Company in a left flanking attack, which had to clear a whole zigzag trench system metre by metre – a savage, messy and bloody affair. In the process, many civilians, even children, hiding among the fighters in the trenches were also killed. In the chaotic circumstances, nobody could afford to ask questions first. Some of the defenders were women, but armed and in uniform, fighting and dying bravely. At last, the heavy machine guns were silenced, and in Cassinga itself the surviving PLAN defenders started surrendering.
Charlie Company had also cleared the trenches on the eastern outskirts of the town. At this point, another problem cropped up in the form of Brigadier Martiens du Plessis, who had jumped with the paratroop force but had no place in the command structure. However, not only did he appropriate Breytenbach’s only radio able to communicate with the operational headquarters at Ondangwa, but he ordered the choppers from Whisky 3 to start the extraction procedure prematurely. Although the climax of the battle was past, Cassinga was not yet totally secured. The decision threw the carefully crafted extraction plan into disarray.
Together with the first wave of helicopters, an unexpected visitor turned up – the dapper, white-haired figure of Lieutenant General Constand Viljoen, Chief of the Army. A real soldier’s soldier, he wanted to see and experience things for himself. One cannot but admire him for this, although he arrived in full rank insignia, to the consternation of the officers on the ground.
But more problems loomed to the south. The Cubans and Angolans at Techamutete had awoken to the sounds of battle and were on their way in force. In fact, they were quite slow in reacting. According to a Cuban source, the local commander had to get permission first from the Cuban commanding general in Luanda, and this was slow in coming.[24] Nevertheless, this was even more of a problem than it should have been, as Delta Company, which was supposed to support the antitank platoon exactly against this eventuality, was unilaterally pulled back by Du Plessis and sent off with the first load of troops being evacuated. This left only the antitank platoon, with its nine RPG-7s and 45 rockets, to stop the advance of an entire mechanised battle group. With some paratroopers having been flown out already, the remaining force numbered perhaps 200. It was a very precarious situation.
This problem was exacerbated when the antitank platoon was ordered – it is not known by whom, although it was not Breytenbach – to vacate their carefully chosen ambush position a kilometre south of Cassinga and pull back to a position on the outskirts. When the enemy battle group arrived, they were nevertheless hit with everything the platoon had to offer, and the Cubans and Angolans suffered heavily. But it also meant that the battle group was now on Cassinga’s doorstep, and thus a far greater menace than if had they been engaged further away from the town. It would take some time before the helicopters would be able to return, so Breytenbach and his men were, to put it mildly, up the creek without a paddle. The battle was balanced on a knife-edge between success and disaster. Even Constand Viljoen, expecting to be captured, took off his rank insignia and general’s beret and hid them.
Breytenbach asked Ondangwa urgently for air support. The problem was that the attack on Chetequera was about to commence, and the bombers were needed for that part of the operation. So the Mirages were scrambled and one Buccaneer diverted to cover the paratroopers. The Mirages, of course, were interceptors and not configured for tank attacks, although the Buccaneer was. What happened next was drama of the highest order. The story is perhaps best taken up by Captain Dries Marais, pilot of the Buccaneer, who flew with navigator Ernie Harvey:
As I rolled into my dive attack on the tanks, which had by now reached the outskirts of Cassinga, in front of me, just settling into their attack, were the two Mirages. The 30 mm HE rounds of the first one exploded ineffectively on the lead tank and I called out to the second aircraft to leave the tanks alone and go for the personnel carriers. The pilot confirmed my request and the next moment I was overjoyed with pride as I witnessed my closest friend, Major Johan Radloff, whose voice I had immediately recognised, take out three BTRs with a single burst from his twin cannon.
Turning round for another pass, we could see the first tank burning like a furnace, and on this run, the lead Mirage pilot destroyed no fewer than five BTRs with a long burst, running his shells in movie-like fashion through them. “Dis hoe die boere skiet, julle ****sems!” were my thoughts and then our second salvo of 12 rockets, every third one with an armour-piercing head, also struck home.
In a matter of seconds, two tanks and about 16 armoured personnel carriers had been completely destroyed, and then the Mirages were down to their minimum combat fuel and they had to retire leaving us to deal with the rest.
We decided to concentrate on the tanks, and then things started happening. Most of the BTRs were trailing twin-barrelled 14,5-mm anti-aircraft guns, and some of them were now deployed and shooting at us. Even one of the tanks was firing with its main weapon and I remember being amused at the gunner’s optimism at hitting a manoeuvring target travelling at 600 knots.
Ernie, on the other hand, was far from amused, as he was not, like me, in a state of aggression and experiencing tunnel vision. Keeping a good look out all around, he was actually aware of several AA [anti-aircraft] positions firing at us. He was even less impressed at my dismissal of the problem, but my whole system was now charged to take out the remaining tanks.
As we turned in again, these two tanks left the road and disappeared into the bush. We destroyed another BTR, but decided to save our ammunition for the tanks. Flying around trying to locate them, I became annoyed with one AA site, which kept up a steady stream of tracer in our direction and decided to take it out. It was, in fact, the gun which had been towed by the BTR we had just destroyed, and to this day I can only have respect for the discipline and courage of the gun crew and some troops who kept up their firing – even with their small arms – until my rockets exploded amongst them, killing the lot and destroying the gun.
As I broke off from this attack, the huge gaggle of helicopters passed underneath us and landed in the pre-planned area to pick up the troops. By this time I had learned that the Chief of the Army, Lieut General Viljoen, was on the ground with them, and that there was grave concern for his safety.
Then, as the helicopters were landing, the remaining two tanks reappeared on the road and started shelling the landing area which was in a shallow depression. Because of this, and the inability of that particular type of tank to lower its gun far enough, they were fortunately over the target, and, calculating that we had 12 rockets left, I asked Ernie to give me only six, leaving another salvo for the other tank.
Timing was critical as the tanks were beginning to find their range. I realised that they HAD to be stopped. It was a textbook, low-angle attack, and the “Buc” was as steady as a rock in the dive. It was like lining up on a trophy kudu bull after a perfect stalk, but when I pulled the trigger, nothing happened – no rockets, not even one.
I jerked the aircraft around, almost in agony, cursing Ernie for having selected the wrong switches. He was quite adamant that he had selected the switches correctly,
