We Brothers

By Peter Fourie

Daniel wants to become a lawyer to right the wrongs he believes have been inflicted on his people by the white colonisers. His schoolteacher convinces him that he can arrange a university education. Instead, he is abducted and is trained as a terrorist. He returns to his country and uses his skills to fight the invaders of his land.

Peter fulfils his ambition to be a pilot, flying a combat helicopter against the country’s enemies who are seeking to overthrow the government. Often flying into action with only a Perspex windscreen to protect him, he has to learn to control his fear.

This is the story of boys forced into different sides of a war, pawns of the architects of the conflict, Cecil Rhodes, Robert Mugabe and other nationalists, Ian Smith the Rhodesian Prime Minister, and his nemesis, British PM Harold Wilson.

As the two become men and seek their destinies, they become adversaries in an unconventional conflict that causes significant loss of life and injuries, untold misery, and results in the devastation of a country once described as ‘Africa’s bread basket,’ and which became ‘Africa’s basket case.’

The terrorist and the pilot meet several times on opposing sides of the Rhodesian Bush War determined to prevail.

On one side, a terrorist skilled in terrorising the population using hit and run tactics. On the other, a highly skilled pilot flying a highly manoeuvrable aircraft with significant speed, armament, and height advantages.

Can there be any winners in this conflict?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9781398427426

Peter Fourie

Peter Fourie was born in Bulawayo, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). He is passionate about Africa, its wildlife, people and landscape. In retirement, he is a part-time professional photographer and is the author of four photography books. He has also published a travel book based on his own worldwide excursions. This is his first novel. He loves Africa with a passion and still considers it home. He has been a regular visitor to Zimbabwe, honeymooning there with his wife and touring the country with his adult children. His family provides education support to a Victoria Falls family because they believe that education is the way out of poverty. They will donate the profits of this book to charities providing education in the Victoria Falls region because it is a cause in which they wholly believe. He emigrated to Australia in 1978 to take up an engineering position in Sydney.

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About the Author

Peter Fourie was born in Bulawayo, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe).

He is passionate about Africa, its wildlife, people and landscape. In retirement, he is a part-time professional photographer and is the author of four photography books. He has also published a travel book based on his own worldwide excursions. This is his first novel.

He loves Africa with a passion and still considers it home. He has been a regular visitor to Zimbabwe, honeymooning there with his wife and touring the country with his adult children.

His family provides education support to a Victoria Falls family because they believe that education is the way out of poverty. They will donate the profits of this book to charities providing education in the Victoria Falls region because it is a cause in which they wholly believe.

He emigrated to Australia in 1978 to take up an engineering position in Sydney.

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my friends and family still living in Africa and to the many Rhodesians around the world who still call Rhodesia home. Many of us may not live there anymore, but it is still home for us.

I recently saw the words, ’There is no such thing as an ex-Rhodesian.’ You are Rhodesian or you are not.

Copyright Information ©

Peter Fourie 2024

The right of Peter Fourie to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398426054 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398427426 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

Acknowledgement

My thanks to the following people who helped with this novel.

My Australian born wife, Colleen, who already knows most of the history, provided great feedback to help me clarify parts of the book. It was her feedback that caused me to write many of the chapters in the first person as narrators. Terry Stapleton, who was brave enough to read the first draft.

Colin Weyer from www.rhodesia.me.uk for the use of his maps and his efforts in producing exactly what I wanted.

Author’s Note

This novel is not an autobiography. By way of explanation, the author and main character share the same name because it enabled me to include my Huguenot heritage and events into the book.

I wrote many of the chapters of the book in the first person as narrator. This may be confusing if you forget who is narrating. So please take the time to check the chapter heading before you read the chapter.

I do not intend this book to be a historical account of the transition from Rhodesia to Zimbabwe. There are many such books and information for the reader if this is what they require. Any errors or omissions in historical terms are from my own shortcomings. At times, I used some poetic license and changed time periods to fit the story.

Some might not agree with some thoughts expressed in this book. I wrote what I thought the person might say and, sometimes, what they were reported to have said. Please realise that this is a work of fiction about historical events.

There have many books written about Rhodesia, both fiction and non-fiction. I have tried to present the story from two perspectives, both black and white. Neither side was completely right; usually, the truth is normally somewhere in the middle.

I am always amazed to hear judgements from outsiders who have never visited the country nor could they point to it on a map. Many people I have met from other parts of the world assume that I must be South African because I am of African descent.

The implication of this is that Rhodesia must have had apartheid policies. Others that I have not met face to face assume I am black. I am neither black nor white. I am an African. In the book, I needed to differentiate, and that is why I use the terms black and white. Neither term is intended to be derogatory.

During the period I cover ZAPU and its military wing ZIPRA, the terrorist organisation operating in Matabeleland was in disarray. I do not know if there were any terror groups operating independently where ZAPU had previously operated in North Western Rhodesia.

I don’t think anyone knows. My own national service was restricted to the North-Eastern sector, but I have a deep affinity with the Victoria Falls region and have many good friends there. The character John is real and I hope he gets a chuckle if he happens to read the section in which he plays his part. I was stationed at Wankie/Victoria Falls for a period (as a civilian) and during this time we cruised the river as described.

My idea for the terrorist action at the Wankie Coal Mine came from my time at Wankie, which included the explosion of the number two colliery where, tragically, over 400 people lost their lives. A few of the miners were pulled out alive, however, most probably perished in the initial explosion. The mine is their grave. It is thought that the ignition of methane gas (always present in coal mines to some degree) was ignited possibly from a blown-out shot from blasting, welding which was known to be carried out at the time or other electrical equipment, set off coal dust.

I heard the explosion and witnessed one fan blown into the air. This was one of the most distressing times in my life. I experienced first-hand the heartache the explosion caused, but also the generosity and resilience of the Rhodesian people. As the technician responsible for all voice and data communications in and out of the Wankie region, I worked 20 hours a day for two weeks. With help from my head office, we set up contingency communications systems and even assisted journalists to send images to their newspapers via rudimentary facsimile equipment.

There is a charity in Victoria Falls with goals similar to those I describe to which my wife and I donate. We intend to donate any earnings from this book to them because it is a cause we wholly believe in.

Dennis Macintosh was real and he offered me a job in Australia. Tragically, he was killed in a car crash in Australia on the night of his bachelor party before I arrived.

It is very difficult to describe the pull of Africa on me. It is an all-pervading feeling; it is the African people; it is the wildlife; it is the extraordinary sunsets; it is the smell of the land after the rain; it is the sounds; it is my ancestry. When I set foot on the soil of Africa again, I know I am home. She is never far from my thoughts. Once the power of Africa gets into your blood, she will not let go. You will always ache for her.

The term Matabele may confuse readers versus Ndebele. The term Ndebele came into use later, but essentially are the same people. I have tried to keep true to the period in my use of the name.

The country I call Rhodesia was Southern Rhodesia when there was a federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland. After the dissolution of the federation, Northern Rhodesia became Zambia, Southern Rhodesia dropped Southern prefix and Nyasaland became Malawi.

I provide the historical maps below for reader’s orientation.

Maps

Prologue

This is a story about two boys in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and their journey to becoming men. They were born and bred in the same country but with different coloured skin. The colour of a person’s skin is determined by their DNA and this is the only physiological difference.

In African people, the skin’s brown pigment provides some protection from the sun’s harmful ultraviolet light. The white immigrants from Europe’s colder zones, being less exposed to the sun, developed a lighter skin colour. It is as simple as that. However, their education, life experience, environment, upbringing, religions and the beliefs of their forebears significantly influenced their thinking.

It is a story of boys forced into different sides of ideologies, not because of their intrinsic beliefs, but because their parents, religious leaders and politicians influenced them to take a position. Possibly, if their skin colours and environments were interchanged, so would their beliefs. As the book progresses, they both start to question their beliefs.

It is also a story of men forced to fight a war where there were no real winners. A war conducted by puppeteers who did not face death or injury every sleeping or waking moment. The puppeteers on both sides of the conflict never faced the terror of being on a patrol, expecting an ambush or driving in a truck that could detonate a landmine or being blown to bits by a bomb dropped from the sky.

The only purpose of war is to serve the so-called leaders who do not have the courage to face their enemies on a battlefield. They use soldiers like pawns on a chessboard, totally expendable.

The two boys become adversaries in a conflict that caused significant loss of life, untold misery and resulted in the devastation of a country once described as Africa’s bread basket and became Africa’s basket case. The only winners were the puppeteers.

Britain created a mess by colonising people who did not want to be colonised, created borders to suit their own purposes where none had existed nor were needed. They did this in the name of the Empire, as if their own aspirations and glory were all that mattered. However, when the mess erupted as it always would, they were found wanting. Britain’s policy of appeasement of other African states made both black and white Rhodesians suffer terrible consequences, not of their own making.

The African nationalists, in concert with their Russian and Chinese backers sought the downfall of the Smith regime. As history has proven, the nationalists were only interested in power and they would do anything to get and retain that power. They chose power at the end of a gun. Their communist sponsors wanted a foot in resource-rich southern Africa.

White Rhodesians weren’t blameless. Fear of losing their lifestyle and the sure knowledge that black Africans were ill-equipped to run a country meant that they would resist. That is not to say with the benefit of training and experience, they couldn’t run the country. The reality is that Rhodesia lost much of its experienced workforce to migration. Much human capital was lost to other countries, which exacerbated the path to economic disaster.

The nationalist leadership was handed the chalice and at every opportunity enhanced their own personal power by ignoring the law and using violence, robbing the treasury to line their own pockets and failing to listen to any advice offered. The history of other countries in Africa did little to allay the fears of the white man. The West did not listen. Some international politicians became experts on Rhodesia, despite only ever being in the country for days.

The nature of African leadership shown by Zulus Shaka and Mzilikazi was doomed to be repeated. Democracy was short-lived but it would die. A major issue was the belief by many whites that blacks were inferior human beings and were treated as such.

Chapter 1

Meeting Again

The man who sat on the terrace of the Victoria Falls Hotel, in Zimbabwe, was waiting to meet an ex-enemy. His rather large nose prevented him from being described as handsome but his deep blue eyes and his slightly curly blonde hair made him attractive to women. At six feet and slimly built, he wore his jeans and polo shirt comfortably. His face and arms showed evidence of time under the African sun.

The way he lounged in his chair showed some inner confidence but did not betray his shyness or the anxiety he felt at this moment.

Surrounded by the elegance of the hotel, Peter Fourie was waiting for his lunch companion. Few hotels where he had stayed and possibly in the world could boast about the outlook that he could see. Set in a national park, there is an unlimited view with no signs of civilisation. Thankfully, Victoria Falls lacks the commercialisation that could be seen at other similar tourist attractions around the world.

The unpretentious entrance to the actual falls belies the sights, sounds and physical experiences that first-time visitors will be about to witness. It is an assault on the senses and a natural phenomenon that everyone should see at least once in their lifetime.

He looked out towards the falls a few kilometres away. Of course, he couldn’t see the falls from here but the mist rising from the plunge of the Zambezi River into the gorges below was unmistakable. The local Makololo name for this extraordinary and sacred place is far more apt: ’Mosi-oa-Tunya,’ The Smoke that Thunders.

At the height of the river flow in May, the spray that rises from the fall can reach 400 metres in height and is visible from 50 kilometres away. Words alone fail to describe the greatest falling sheet of water in the world. One has to experience the attack on one’s senses to truly appreciate it. It is too wide to take in its entirety from any of the viewing stations in the rainforest opposite the falls, you have to see it from the air to do so.

But from the air, you don’t hear the thunder as water crashes in the gorge below, nor experience the continuous rain and mist when the Zambezi River is full. It is one of the seven Natural Wonders of the World due to the sheer scale of the waterfall at 1,708 metres wide and ranging between 61 and 98 metres high across its length.

He couldn’t help but reflect on the times he had been here before. First, as a schoolboy when he played cricket at Livingstone across the bridge in Northern Rhodesia (Zambia) before the troubles started and then as a pilot in the Rhodesian Air Force during the Rhodesia Bush War. He had spent considerable time stationed at FAF 1 at Wankie (now Hwange) 100kms to the south-east.

The name of the town never failed to be the cause of mirth from later friends in Australia to where he had migrated. This was one of the first forward airfields (FAFs) to be established during the Rhodesian Bush War with a fixed-wing aircraft and a helicopter.

In these quiet moments, he thought back to his service here. From moments of pure terror being fired at in the cockpit of a helicopter with only a light Perspex windscreen protecting him, to the rowdy parties in the mess and cruising on his friend John’s boat on the Zambezi River at sunset. It brought a smile to his face when he thought of John and his antics.

John had not actually grown up; he was an adult only in size and was in constant state of war with his wife, who couldn’t understand his need to be the life and soul of the party. John knew all the operators of the myriad