SAMVOZA Veteran Mark Holder recounted his experiences from 1979
BEERS AND HIDE AND SEEK ON THE BORDER
Our first border stint was in Rundu, where nothing really happened.
We arrived and just settled in on my 21st Birthday. I arranged with some of the non-drinking guys to buy their beers. (you were only allowed two beers a day), so I organized 10 beers for my 21st. Drank one, then what never happens in Rundu happened.
A call-in came from one of the outside bases that there was possible terrorist activity. We were the “Reaksie Mag,” so off we went around 18h00. Nine beers left and ALL of them opened. I stuffed them under my bed, in anticipation of a bit of party when we got back.
After quite a long drive we arrived at the camp on the Kunene River; it was dark and we were told to man the trenches. And there we stood... and nothing happened. Later in the evening there were braai fires made and everyone seemed to be having a good time.
We were in the trenches and there were nine open beers under my bed back in camp.
So we spent the night of my 21st birthday in the trenches. The next morning after “Klaar Staan”, where everyone is up facing outwards just before the sun comes up, until about a half hour after sunrise, we were told to get back on the vehicles, and we returned to base.
The first thing I checked were the beers. All of them warm and flat. Not being British, I cannot drink warm, flat beer...
So I still have my 21st birthday every year, and will continue until I manage 9 cold fresh beers in one sitting. I’m looking forward to my 21st again this year..."
"Planting tyres around the parade ground was the daily job; not very inspiring. Then one day they wanted volunteers to build a wall next to some room or other.
I’m from Joburg and never built anything in my life, but what can be difficult? Bricks, cement, water and sand. Mix it all together, pile them on top of each other and you should have a wall. Much more fun than planting tyres. So off we went: got the wall pretty high for our first day of building and were very proud of the accomplishment.
We woke up the next morning and the wall had fallen over. Back to planting tyres.
Then a break in the boredom and we were sent to what they called “The Mangetti Block” to patrol and catch the poachers. There we arrived with a ten-man tent, radio, some extra batteries, ammo, our kit and a week's rations. We set the tent up and obviously had to rest a bit after the hard work. One of the guys heard this scratching on the ground sheet near his head and gave it a few smacks, but it would not stop. So we went outside and lifted the ground sheet and we had put our tent over a scorpion's nest.
A very quick move and we were settled.
The patrols were interesting, seeing how the people of the area lived, and did we really have the right to remove their traps and food source? So we removed a few but not all, and we got to greet a few people in the community on the patrols, but then boredom again.
So we decided to play Hide and Seek but with a difference. A couple of guys go and hide in the trees and the rest of us must find them and shoot the branch they are sitting on until the branch breaks and they fall out of the tree. Theoretically, it sounds like fun for stupid people. Practically, once we found the first guy and started shooting and the branch broke and he fell we understood the enormity of the stupidity. We only played it once.
We met a few locals on one patrol and they asked us if we wanted beer. Of course we said yes, and they agreed to make us some but we had to provide a jerry can and sugar. The next week, we gave them our entire week's sugar ration and a jerry can.
A week later they came back with a jerry can full of Mahangu Beer and it was time for a party. We opened the jerry can and poured ourselves a full “Fire Bucket” each. “Cheers” all round and we drank. Without exception, everyone spat the contents out. You have never tasted anything so revolting in your life. Another border party that never was. We emptied the jerry can, washed it and filled it with water.
We were approached by a bakkie and a couple of local farmers who asked if we were hungry. Young guys living on “Rat Packs” - of course we were hungry. So here was the deal: we each give them ten x R1 rounds and they would drop off a buck for us to eat. We handed over the rounds and never expected anything really.
Before sunrise the next morning the bakkie was back and a couple of days later after letting the buck “hang out,” we had a feast, and never saw the bakkie again."
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