Chapter 31: We Gotta Get Outta This Place - The British War with Rhodesia (Part I)
“Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death.” - British Prime Minister Harold Wilson
Despite their historical reputation for imperialism and conquest, the British people are, at their core, not inherently jingoistic. As a matter of fact, by the latter half of the twentieth century, the citizens of the United Kingdom were skeptical of war, and pacifism, with its preference for diplomacy as a solution to issues ran deep throughout multiple strata of society. The First World War had been a dramatic wake up call to Britons. War was not gallant, it was not pretty. In the words of American Civil War General William Tecumseh Sherman: “War is hell”. After emerging from the lethargy of disarmament that had followed the Great War and its millions of casualties and broken bodies, the Second World War had been, as Churchill pointed out, the British Empire’s “Finest Hour.” An island of liberty in a continent overrun by authoritarian fascism, for more than a year, Britain and the overseas realms of the Commonwealth had stood alone against Hitler and refused to surrender. Together with the United States and Soviet Union, the United Kingdom overcame Hitler’s war machine and proved essential in the foundation of the United Nations. Perhaps a few decades too late, the world had been made safe for democracy.
Despite the allies’ great victory however, the war had been the last triumph of the British Empire, and the blow that would ultimately prove its undoing. In its wake, the nation was left in massive debt, with most of its major cities in ruins from the near constant German bombing raids. Wartime rationing continued for years after V-E day while the government of Labour PM Clement Attlee struggled to pick up the pieces of a world nearly torn to shreds by the war. Decolonization, the reforming of the British fiscal policy to lessen military spending and increase aid to its people in rebuilding, and a new reliance on America for financial and military backing all contributed to a steady decline in British prestige. Following the disaster that the foray into the Suez in 1956 would prove, the sun, it seemed, had finally set on the British Empire.
Nonetheless, Britons are a proud people, and stubborn. Stoicism and a hardline resolve amongst them had been born in the crucibles of the World’s two great conflicts, and left them demanding that they continue to have a role to play on the world stage, even if their days at the top of the totem pole were over. They would be a steadfast ally of the United States, of course, but Britain would continue to serve her own purposes as well. All of this had played into the public’s reaction to the Rhodesian attack on the pilots of the
HMS Ark Royal in the summer of 1966. Despite Prime Minister Harold Wilson’s insistence on tabling the Rhodesian issue in a diplomatic manner, the deaths of Lt. Archer Douglass and the other pilots seemed to many Britons the final straw. War, when it was announced by royal prerogative through the Prime Minister, was greeted with thunderous applause. New versions of “It’s a Long Way to Tipperary”, “Keep the Home Fires Burning”, Vera Lynn’s “We’ll Meet Again” and other patriotic songs were recorded by contemporary artists, and sold in record numbers. Union jacks waved frequently and proudly from the homes and businesses of many middle and working class Britons. Though there were protests and words of caution, most notably from John Lennon of the Beatles and other celebrities, overwhelming public sentiment became unilateral in its support for swift, decisive military action.
This presented an issue to Wilson’s government, namely: the need for increased defense expenditures right about the time that they had intended to balance the national budget. For years while in opposition, Labour had made plans to scrap or at least reduce funding for modernization projects for the Royal Navy and Air Force, as well as cancel production of a new fleet of aircraft carriers to replace the current
Audacious class when they were to be decommissioned in a decade or so. A proud “peacenik”, Wilson much favored using government funds to pay for education, the National Health Service, and other economic ventures rather than a potentially costly war halfway around the world. The times, naturally, forced Wilson’s hand however. The plans which were previously facing the chopping block were allowed to go through as initially intended by the Tories.
Thankfully for Wilson and the Labour Party, they enjoyed the full confidence of Her Majesty, in addition to the British people. Queen Elizabeth II, rarely an overt political presence, gave speeches, visited sailors aboard the
Ark Royal and compared the struggle to come in Rhodesia with her father’s own experiences in the Second World War. “Twenty years ago, we were fighting to preserve freedom for ourselves here in Britain.” She said proudly. “Now, we seek to protect those same ideals abroad as well. The Rhodesian people suffer under the yolk of an oppressive regime which rules its people by fiat and uncompromising aggression. The United Kingdom, and all freedom loving nations of this world, must stand against such obvious villainy.”
…
The British Military had its work cut out for it if it was going to bring the war to a successful conclusion. In the aftermath of the British declaration of war on the 18th of June, 1966; the Smith government had done exactly as Wilson feared they would, and invaded neighboring Zambia. Independent as of October 1964 but still part of the Commonwealth, Zambia represented the most likely British base of operations from which to invade Rhodesia. Though the British had prepared for such a move by Rhodesian Security forces by placing several regiments of Royal Marines on the northern shores of Lake Karuba, their planners had underestimated the size and ferocity of the offensive to come. In a nighttime raid on the evening of the 20th, nearly all of Rhodesia’s three thousand elite troops were carried over Lake Karuba in French manufactured SNIAS Alouette-II transport helicopters and took the 1,000 or so Royal Marines in the vicinity totally unawares. The marines and their Zambian allies put up a brave fight, but the Rhodesians used their mobility to their advantage and quickly forced their surrender, taking most of the garrison prisoner.
As British reinforcements were still being shipped to Rhodesia via transport ships through the Suez, the Zambian military would be forced to largely defend itself in the coming days and weeks. Furious that their fellow Commonwealth nation had failed to uphold their end of the bargain, Zambia decided to use what resources it could bring to bear to mostly defend its capital, Lusaka. Kenneth Kaunda, President of Zambia addressed his people over radio and television, asking them to remain vigilant in the wake of “Rhodesian aggression” and to do everything they could to protect their families, as he was unsure to what degree they could rely on Britain for protection. Thankfully for the Zambian people, Smith did not believe his nation’s security forces had the numbers to truly overrun Zambia, and so contented themselves with holding the north banks of Lake Karuba and taking up defensive positions there for the time being. Back in Salisbury, plans were being drawn up for increasing the small nation’s manpower reserves, as well as for opening up the potential for South African intervention on their side. Such a political stand by their neighbors to the south could be their ticket to victory, particularly with how lukewarm Smith knew Harold Wilson to be on the prospect of the war to begin with. “Wilson is a coward.” Smith told his generals confidently. “A few more victories and we shall have this war in the bag by Christmas.” Smith had some reason to be confident: his largely white security forces were well paid, well trained, and eminently loyal. Even before UDI, they had been largely independent in their command structure and organization from the British military. Thus, when it came time to do away with their “colonial overlords”, most didn’t see the change as too dramatic and defections were minimal.
Knowing that Britain’s forces were not yet in a position to effectively counter and invade Rhodesia properly, Wilson in the meantime decided to adopt, at least in part, Canadian Prime Minister Pearson’s suggestion: that upon confirmation of the location of former Prime Minister Winston Field, a crack team of commandos be paradropped in from the
Ark Royal to retrieve and extradite him to the United Kingdom. From there, he could be negotiated with into potentially forming a new government in exile of Rhodesia. The new government would be granted legitimacy by the British, and hopefully thereafter, the international community and would be made a new dominion of the Commonwealth. This plan had been given the green light by all of the members of Wilson’s war cabinet, though some expressed doubts that it would be the widely reaching success that Pearson and Wilson were hoping it would be. Despite his moderation as opposed to Smith, Field was still a founder of the Rhodesian Front party, by no means a British patriot. Many of the rebel groups Wilson hoped would back the government in exile were communists or socialists, supported by the USSR or China, who were unlikely to support any government which did not cater to their Marxist worldviews.
Nonetheless, the plan went ahead on the 17th of August, 1966. Wilson waited with baited breath as reports filtered back to 10 Downing Street via the
Ark Royal on the progress of the commandos. The mission was complicated in of itself, as it involved moving several Type 192 Bristol Belvedere helicopters, transporting the commandos; through the airspace of Mozambique, a territory still in the hands of Portugal at the time. With Portugal still friendly to the Smith regime despite President John F. Kennedy’s stern warnings against interfering with British operations in the region, there was a fear on the part of Wilson and the operation’s planning team that the helis could face resistance before or after reaching their target landing zones near Salisbury.
The Rhodesian air force was briefly considered a threat, but quickly dismissed as such after reconnaissance backed by CIA intelligence revealed that Smith had only 1,000 personnel who were capable of flying at the time of the mission. Furthermore, only a few hundred fighter aircraft were available and most could not be scrambled immediately unless they had several minutes worth of advanced warning. Thanks to the low altitudes at which the Belvederes would fly the commandos, there was little chance of detection by Rhodesian radar. In all, the biggest threat to the operation’s success would be any ground based security forces the British encountered between landing and extracting Field with them on the helis. At 02:14 local time, “Operation Anvil” as the mission came to be codenamed, was launched from the Indian Ocean. Via secure telephone, Prime Minister Wilson addressed the commandos, telling them: “the fate and the freedom of millions of Rhodesians rest on your shoulders tonight, lads. Don’t let them down.”
Thankfully for Wilson and the war effort, the British commandos were some of the best trained soldiers in the world. From launch at 02:14 to its successful conclusion at 06:00, Operation Anvil went off without a hitch. The Belvederes dropped off the paratroopers near the outskirts of Salisbury, whence the commandos would then move in squads of six toward the compound where CIA intelligence had assured them that Field and his family were being kept. The British reached the compound at 04:35, where they encountered token resistance from security forces left in charge of guarding the old Prime Minister. The Smith regime had focused most of its crack troops on the invasion of Zambia, and thus left green recruits on guard duty for what they believed to be a low priority mission. Inflicting three kills and two captured on the Rhodesians while taking no casualties themselves, the commandos retrieved Field and his family, informing them of their intentions in the country. Though Field has his qualms about working with the British government, he was wise enough not to resist and be taken to the Isles by force. By 06:00, Field and his family were on the Belvederes and en route to the
Ark Royal waiting in the Indian Ocean.
Back in London, Wilson telephoned Ottawa to share his good news and rejoicing at the success of the operation. “Mike, we’ve done it.” He said, cheer running down his voice like the drippings of a fine meal down a chin. “Your idea was simply smashing!”
On the other end, in North America, Lester B. Pearson smiled sadly and rubbed late-night weariness from his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that, Harold. But be wary, you’ve still got a long way to go before the situation will start to stabilize.” Pearson’s wife, Maryon was starting to stir from her own sleep and Lester knew he needed to finish the call quickly, lest he face her wrath. “Start negotiations forthwith. The rebels on the ground will not be an easy sort to negotiate with. If you need more advice or help, always feel free to call.”
“Thank you Mike, I certainly will. Goodnight.” The receiver clicked and Pearson let out a satisfied, if nervous sigh. He leaned over to kiss Maryon’s forehead and eased himself back to bed.
It’s not going to be as easy as he’d like it to be. Pearson shook his head at the thought of Wilson believing the war to be won.
Peace rarely, if ever, is.
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: The War in Rhodesia Continues