Koos Stadler
Small Team Missions Behind
Enemy Lines
Tafelberg
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Dedicated to my father, Koos,
who kindled the spirit of adventure in me, and my dearest wife, Karien,
who had no option but to scale every cliff with me.
Author’s note
I HAVE WRITTEN this book to share something of the world I lived in for more than ten years of my twenty-four-year Special Forces career – the little-known world of the Small Team operator. For those ten years I specialised in reconnaissance. I breathed, ate and slept reconnaissance. The experience I gained with the recce wing of 31 Battalion from November 1978 to December 1981 shaped my character and prepared me for life at 5 Reconnaissance Regiment, where I served as a Small Team operator from 1984 to 1989. My subsequent career, both in Special Forces and beyond, was based on the strict code of conduct and principles embedded during that period.
Over the years, the art of reconnaissance became a passion. After being exposed to the intricacies of tactical reconnaissance at 31 Battalion’s recce wing in the Caprivi, I did Special Forces selection and finally fulfilled my dream of joining Small Teams, the strategic reconnaissance capability of the then Reconnaissance Regiments, commonly known as the Recces. There are many misconceptions – and often crazy, fabricated stories – out there about Special Forces. Few people perhaps know that there were different Recce units, each with a dedicated field of specialisation. Even fewer people are aware of the existence of the highly specialised Small Teams and the extraordinary role they played in the Border War (1966–1989).
This book was written over more than two decades. To paint as accurate a picture as possible, I had to rely on notes made over the years, on my memory, on the recollections of my colleagues and on limited documentation. By telling my story I hope to shed some light on the concept as well as the capabilities of the specialist reconnaissance teams of the South African Special Forces. However, I do not attempt to provide a comprehensive history of Small Teams or a detailed account of the stages through which the capability developed.
Since this is a personal account, I can only credit those individuals with whom I deployed. While it isn’t possible to mention the names of all the operators who formed part of the specialist reconnaissance fraternity, I wish to acknowledge the pioneers of Small Teams in South Africa, individuals like Koos Moorcroft, Jack Greeff, Tony Vieira and Sam Fourie, and operators like Homen de Gouveia and Justin Vermaak, who did excellent work while with 1 Reconnaissance Regiment. If I omit from my story the names of Special Forces operators who participated in reconnaissance missions during their careers, it is simply because I did not have the privilege of working with them.
More importantly, since there has always been some rivalry between Small Teams and the regular Special Forces commandos, I wish to state that I never doubted their abilities. Neither do I dispute their superior fighting skills nor their excellence in combat. On the contrary, I have been impressed by the level of professionalism of numerous Special Forces soldiers.
Finally, I am happy to share the joys and sorrows I experienced with my comrades, and I proudly recall the unique code of conduct that we lived by, as well as the close bond and mutual respect we shared in both 31 Battalion’s recce wing and 54 Commando.
KOOS STADLER
PART 1
Courage and Action
~
“We fear naught but God”
motto of 5 Reconnaissance Regiment, from the unit’s Code of Honour
1
Target
SILENTLY and with slow, deliberate movements, I slide my pack off. I reach for the first charge and a set of glue tubes. With practised fingers I undo the straps of the pouches and arrange the rest of the charges so I can reach them easily. I feel strangely calm and ready for the task at hand.
The fear I used to experience is absent. Instead, sheer determination has taken over. Deep inside I know that I am well prepared to get the job done and that the stakes are too high for me to fail.
I slip the pack back on and drape my AMD rifle1 in a fireman’s sling down the centre of my back to allow freedom of movement. Then I start the stalk towards the MiG-21 fighter jet, silenced pistol cocked and ready in the right hand, charge in the left and night-vision goggles on my chest.
Ten metres from the aircraft, I stop to observe with the night-vision goggles. The darkness of the night is absolute, as we hoped, but it also means that I cannot see below the fuselage of the aircraft. Not even with the beam of the infrared torch can my goggles penetrate the complete blackness under the belly of the huge aircraft crouched on the tarmac.
The night is dead silent. There is no sound from beneath the plane, nor can I make out any shape under the belly. I realise I need to go low to observe better. Slowly and stealthily I ease forward to move into the blackness under the fuselage so I can look up against the ambient light of the sky. I crouch to move in under the wing.
Then suddenly, without warning, a voice pierces the silence of the night from the darkness underneath the plane. My worst fear has just come true.
“Who are you ...?”
The voice is hesitant, restrained by fear. Then stronger, more demanding:
“Who are you?”
The all-too-familiar cocking of a Kalashnikov shatters the fragile night air. Barely three metres away, it cracks invisibly like a rifle shot in the quiet night.
For many years of my adult life I lived in a small world, a world where two people operated in a hostile environment that in a split second could erupt in violence – a world of perpetual vigilance. Sometimes we were hundreds of kilometres into enemy territory, miles away from the comforts of suburban life and the reassuring presence of other people. It was a realm far removed from the normal world, one filled with nagging fear and uncertainty, with hunger and thirst.
Then there was the silence. For long stretches of time I would work in absolute quiet, while communication with my single team member was limited to hand signals or the occasional whisper.
This was the world of the specialist reconnaissance teams, or Small Teams.
For most of my adult life I have been a soldier. Looking back today, I realise I was destined to join the South African Special Forces, or Recces, as they were commonly known, and eventually to become a member of the elite Small Teams. From my early childhood, stalking small game in the dunes of the Kalahari, to my first taste of tactical reconnaissance
