Army Life In The SADF

[Maritz]

This is the story of the old South African Defense Force. It would be interesting to hear from other armies across the globe. At the time I went [1989] it was still compulsory, if you didn`t report for duty the MP`s was on your case - you were hunted down, court marsheled and locked up. By the time I went the war in SWA/Angola had finished, although a lot of armoured vehicles was still in SWA and Angola - a war inside SA was raging between the ANC and the IFP[Inkata Freedom Party] of which I would be part of later that year - I would start in Ladysmith[Nort Natal; then Upington[Northern Cape]; then Rooi Kop[outside Walvis Bay]; then Durban[Riots]; back to Rooi Kop and finally to Upington where I finished. As they say : "Join the army and see more !" A background - the SADF had for stages of training - Phase1[Basics], Phase2[Individual training], Phase3[Platoon training] and phase4[Company training] - I suspect that this would be the case for armies across the globe. I`ll divide this post up in the four phases.

Phase1 - Basic Training

I started off at Ladysmith in Northern Natal which was an infantery school; also a camp with the highest suicide rate in the country. Troops that cracked used to shoot themselves[rounds they kept on them after being at the shooting range]; hanged themselves[with that 1m rope that we were isued with] or sharpened their eating knife and tried to slit their wrists. I remember one morning at row-call after such an attempted suicide the previous night the lieutenant saying : "If you want to commit suicide do it right, if not I`m going to arrest you for damaging of state property, and then you will wish that you have killed yourself". I wrote two letters to family and friends; but they could only read a word here and there as most was blotted. I entered army life as a rebel - long bleached hair with an attitude. Needless to say I lost both after two weeks; I swear they cut my hair extra short because of the length and bleach. We slept in tents on bunk beds[one on top the other] because the camp was over full, while the other troops filled the barracks. I`ll never forget the first sunday at this camp being woken up early in the morning, the corporal overturning bed after bed - we had to report for church parade. There were two of these corporals and they had no respect for the sunday or the jewbook. They chose a fellow troop to read out of the jewbook, and while reading slapped the book out of his hand; then told us to round a tree in the distance - this went on for about an hour untill breakfast - this was our first church parade. These were the only two people in my army time that I found that had no respect for the jewbook. I didn`t care much for the jewbook either - I was fully into my hard rock/metal music [Black Sabbath, AC/DC, Judas Priest, Metallica, Iron Maiden, Slayer, etc] with bands disrespecting the same book and religion. Maybe it was because they were english-speaking; most ranks in the army in SA were Afrikaans-speaking and xtian or maybe they were metalheads too ! 

This camp was packed to capacity with troops and some had to be deployed. They asked us who wanted to go Upington[Northern Cape]; they needed 200 volunteers - nobody volunteerd. Upington is situated about 50km from the SWA border and extremely hot in the sumer. We reported for duty in Feb, the hotest month in sumer; temperatures easily exceeded 40 degrees in this semi-desert area. Seeing that nobody volunteerd, they did things army style. They set up a race and the last 200 would go to Upington. I ran like hell, believe me, but being unfit ended up in the "unfortunate section". Two days later I was on my way to Upington which was an mechanized infantry base. We arrived there after sunset. The Sergeant Major welcomed us : "Welcome to Upington ... this place is seperated from the hell by mesch wire only. We know you are going to enjoy your stay !" What a nice warm welcome. Then we were placed in our platoons, got our bedding and had some grub. By the time we went to bed[1AM] we were exhausted only to be up at 5AM. About a week later basics started - and I really started missing home. The training was hard but the food good, though far to little [at that time the food was not great according to any of us, but would get worse as we travelled around].

This camp also had some interesting suicide cases. The most bezare was the tale of an troop that shot himself at his bed and haunted an entire barracks - nobody slept in it the time I was there. The "whatever" haunted there was called casper - I tried to visit casper while on gaurd duty, looking through the windows, but to no avail. As I said, the training was hard and the heat extreme. It was law to carry a 2l water bottle with you at all times - I saw plenty of troops collapsing from dehydration. We saw plenty of the troop carriers around that Upington was famous for - the Ratel[Afrikaans name]. It derived its name from an extremely tough animal in SA, the honey badger. It was a 6X6 troop carrier and extremely tough - but more of this vehicle later. The first time I saw this vehicle I stood in awe  - would only get to know this vehicle in Phase2.

Going to the fire-range was a first for me. For the first time I could fire the R-4[built of the russian AK-47, but not half as good] that I have been carrying around for a while, also known as "your wife". We were each handed a few magazines and for the first time I really enjoyed myself. Shooting at the range took all day as a lot of troops went at once. Another problem arose - food - but the army had that covered. We were issued with our first "ratt pack" as we called it in SA - there were six variants of these packs - sometimes you would get the worst packs depending on where you were in line when they were handed out - especially if you got handed out a weeks rations at once ! The ration pack consisted of 2x tins of food; 1 pack of dog biscuits; 1x poridge; 2x coffee; 1x tea; 2x cold drinks; 6x sugar packets; 1x milkshake; 2x salt, tamato sauce sachets and 6 sticks of gum - I believe the gum was there if you finished the ration and was still hungry ! At first the ratt pack was great, but would become boring in Phase2 when we were to live on them for weeks at a time.

Going on my first pass was unexplainable - now I could sleep till I wanted ... and the food ... I could eat as much as I wanted ! Here an unforseen change had taken place. The first night at home my mom gave me an huge plate of my favourite food ... but I could not finish it ... not even half of it ! My stomach had shrunk. Trying to sleep late was another problem ... between 4 and 5 AM every morning I was awake ! One night in my sleep I even made my bed and stood at attention waiting for inspection, and believe me I`m no sleep walker ! In three months the army had changed me, while my parents couldn`t get this right in 18 years. I remembered the Staff Sergeants words : "I`m gonna break you down to the ground ... then rebuild you the way I want you !". It seemed he had succeeded. 

[Rev.Cambeul]

My basic training in the ARA (Australian Regular Army) as part of the ADF (Australian Defence Force) was rather uneventful when compared to yours.

Twelve weeks altogether, with a rise in privileges every fourth week, which determined whether or not you could drink and go into town (Wagga Wagga).

I signed up in Queensland, where they did the oath ceremony in Brisbane. When asked if anyone refused to swear an oath to "God," I was the only one who put up my hand. I was therefore refused and they tried to force me to swear their oath to their Jewish spook. In the end I technically broke their law and should have been refused entry. During the swearing in ceremony, I was one of the loudest and clearest voices that could be heard of the twenty or so of us, until the magic words at the end, "So help me God." I refused to say that and standing in the front row, I clamped my mouth shut. Anyone looking would have seen and I know that people who were listening did notice my silence on the spook words as it was mentioned to me afterwards. Technically, I never joined their army.

Just as a matter of interest to anyone, the bloke that was standing to my right in the above mentioned ceremony became an Engineer (Corps of Engineers) and even with his supposedly specialised training, he was sent to Namibia as a grunt (infantry) peace keeper during their elections in 89 after South Africa had left. (I personally couldn't stand him.)

We were then taken to the nearest military base, given a room in the barracks and told to be ready to go by 05:00. I took off for my father's unit (he was in the army at the time - a Staff Sgt) and told him of the time I was supposed to be back by. This was news to him since Army Movements had put him in charge of the bus taking us to the airport at 07 or 08:00. The reason I mention this - something I never bothered to mention to anyone else and haven't thought about in more than twenty years - is because it was my first brush with bastardisation in the army. Under military law, the recruits were required to be out of bed at 06:00 and be ready to leave by 07:00 at the earliest. No need to get up at 04:00 and be standing by their beds at 05:00. However, my father reasoned that since that is what they were told, he would make sure he (and therefore I) was there at 05:00 as the recruits expected. Also, none had been fed since the afternoon before when we were issued with sandwiches at lunch time. Mess passes - and directions to get there - should have been issued for the previous day's evening meal and breakfast. Their next meal would be the evening meal from mess at Kapooka (1st Royal Australian Training Battalion). However, they were only recruits and didn't know what their rights were; so to them (one of whom ended up in Intelligence), no harm was done.

Off to the airport in the morning. Landed in Sydney, boarded the bus for Army Recruiting where we picked up the blokes who'd just signed on only minutes before, and then we headed off on the four to six hour bus ride to Kapooka.

Arriving at Kapooka we were fed, issued a set of ill fitting greens (uniform) and marched up to get our hair cut - blade one. The next day they confiscated any nail files, nail clippers, scissors and other implements we might use to slash our wrists, then issued us with our rifle, bayonet and clasp knife with a tool for removing stones from horses hooves.

From then on it was just the average day to day experiences with acquired learning for the next three months. Training how to use and maintain the SLR L1A1 and L1A2 with live firing ranges at 25 metres up to 500 metres. Demonstrations of the 9 mm Browning (pistol), F1 Sub Machine Gun and the M60. The rest of the training is what you'd expect from any army of that time. No political indoctrination, but what to do if the "Slope Heads" got you - aka what not to do as a prisoner of war (don't give your name rank or serial number, don't allow yourself to be engaged in conversation and don't sign anything - even with a false signature like Ronald Regan or Mickey Mouse (yes, that was the example we were given)). If after a contact, you find a Slope Head lying on the ground wounded, we were taught to put a round through his head and declare, "ONE DEAD ENEMY!" These days it is called murder. In those days (the 80's) we were trained by soldiers who'd fought in Vietnam and knew better. Basically it was three months of drill (when not on a parade ground you marched everywhere you didn't run), weapons training, navigation, radio (ANPR? 77 Set), first aid and physical fitness interspersed with the occasional Battle Efficiency Test, the final "Challenge" (a week out bush followed by a 25 km forced march/run, crossing a dam, going through a couple of obstacle courses, a few contacts, a final bayonet charge and off to the range at a run.

As I recall there was one death at Kapooka just prior to my arrival. A corporal who was outside gave a recruit two seconds to get from his third floor room to the courtyard. He jumped.

The movie Full Metal Jacket had just come out, so our instructors delighted in repeating lines from it. I remember at least one recruit who called his rifle a gun and was ordered to march up and down the hallway clutching his prick in one hand and his his rifle in the other while reciting, "This is my rifle, this is my gun. This is for killing, this is for fun."

The Australian Army was still in the process of updating it's Vietnam era vehicles from Mark V Internationals and Series II and III Landrovers to Mercedes Unimogs, Macs and 110 diesel Landrovers.

After March Out, we were sent to our various corps for Corps Training. Corps Training in the Royal Australian Corps of Transport (RACT) was in Puckapunyal (an hour from Melbourne) and consisted of a week of theory followed by a week out bush to remove the garbage from our heads that had been taught in Kapooka. The difference being that the instructors in Kapooka were of the type that spend their entire lives as instructors. They had passed on some knowledge from Vietnam era soldiers, but followed Army policy more than anything else. The instructors at Puckapunyal were Vietnam era soldiers and taught reality more than Army policy. After that it was driver training, which is a misnomer, because the Australian Army does not teach you how to drive. Since I couldn't drive, I failed and became a Storeman. However, even though I failed the driving, the instructors continued to make sure I and the others that failed the driving test, were taught everything else that was required knowledge by drivers: Camouflaging the vehicles, winching, towing, defensive driving theory, tyre changing and basic mechanics, navigation by speedometer, etcetera .... All of which was useful for me as a Storeman to be, because when out bush, it was us Storemen that had to drive miles into the bush at night with blackout lights and set up resupply depots for the trucks to come in and pick up the stores to deliver to the grunts (infantry), wherever they happened to be at that moment. BTW While in the army I bought a motorcycle and with my left arm in a full plaster cast (obtained during a fight in which I defended a sheila from attempted rape, but for which the SSM (Squadron Sgt Major) wanted to charge me for), I took what knowledge I had from driving a 5 tonne truck (Unimog) and put it into use and taught myself how to ride a motorcycle. I then tested and got my bike licence and a week later I got a car licence after a few practice runs in someone's car. So I must have learned as much as I needed in driver training, but just needed to gain some experience - which they wouldn't allow because only the three females in the driver training troop got full-time use of the vehicles (the Troop Sgt was screwing one of them).

After Corps Training and then gaining trade qualifications as a storeman in another course in at the Roach (Royal Australian Ordnance Corps) School, Bandiana (near Albury on the border of Victoria and New South Wales), I was posted to 5 Transport Squadron. There I was first made Petrols Oils and Lubricants Storeman and then given my own Troop Store with Mac cargoes and tankers. When at the depot, my job was as a Storeman. When out bush it varied from primarily a Storeman to the occasional grunt work. However, from then on it was just a nine-to-five job with the occasional trip out bush on Exercise or tasked out to another unit for ... something else. And then I got out.

In those days they referred to the Australian Army as a "peace time army." These days the army is a peace keeping army. The training is completely different. Even their terminology is politically correct. Weapons are now designed to disable (5.56 round compared to the 7.62 I used to use) rather than kill. Uniforms are now camouflaged (in the old days if we wanted camouflage, we had to use some tins of truck paint). Rules of engagement now decide when a soldier is allowed to defend himself, and to what degree he may be permitted to do so. The death of an enemy combatant may now result in a charge of murder.

In the 80's and going back to the end of WWII, the world was involved in what we all know of as the Cold War. Australia's local enemy was Indonesia. Australian and British forces were permanently based in Malaysia, Papua New Guinea and other places. The government now admits that troops were fighting illegally by crossing into Indonesia in the 50's, but they refuse to acknowledge anything beyond that period - much less that it was still going on in the 80's. Those who went overseas to Malaysia and so-forth were not permitted to talk of what went on there - unless of course they did nothing but party and march around the parade ground looking smart for dignitaries, but mainly their jobs were to patrol certain regions, get shot at, and fire back. If you were killed by Indonesian troops or Indonesian equipped Communist guerillas, your death would be reported as the result of an accident. No pensions for your family, no medals, no recognition. It just didn't happen as far as the Australian Government was concerned. And that was just for the average soldier. Nevermind what the SAS (Special Air Service - the Australian equivalent of the US Rangers, Green Berets, et al) was up to somewhere in the jungles of those islands.

That's about it. If anyone wants my advice, don't join the modern army unless there is something you can learn and use in later life away from the army. Better still, join the Air Force.

Pictures of me in uniform and my March Out parade can be found at https://creativityalliance.com/forum/index.php?action=gallery;su=user;cat=1;u=9

@Cailen.

[Maritz]

If anyone wants my advice, don't join the modern army

I agree. The armies all over the world have become slaves to the UN/ZOG`s plan to "making the world save for democracy", and will unleash their campaign against the resisting White "terrorists" who refuse to accept jew domination just as they are doing against the mudslams at the moment. My advice to Whites would be to at lease learn how to use a gun and to survive in the bush for a few days. In S-Africa we have enough right-wing organisation where these skills could be learned, I believe the USA is the same, dont know about Aus. Obviously SA situation is different - the youth who did not go to the army have no idea of survival or gun use - but then again lately the movements have been flooded with youths - fear or anger is the driving force, or maybe both. The time will come when we will be in open warfare against the NWO - or will just have to fall in with it - adapt or die - at this stage we still have time to organize.

Phase2 - Individual Training

Going back to the army after the first pass was not easy - depressing to say the least. Arriving back it was time for Phase2; a time for individual training. I had a choice between becoming a driver, gunner, "tiffy"[mechanics], normal trooper or signaler. After some thought I went for the gunners course - 20mm turret gunner - the only requirement was that you musn`t be taller than 1.7m, otherwise you would be unable to fit in the turret and close the hatch above you. We spent about 2 weeks in the base at Upington before going to the bush, a place in the open semi-desert called Riemvasmaak, where we would spent the rest of Phase2 - from now on we would seldom see the inside of a base again.

The troops were separated into their indivual groups ... gunners, drivers,etc ... and off we went with the "old men"[mostly PF`s who fought in the SWA/Angolan war] who would show us no mercy from here on. We drove for a few hours before we reached our destination in the midlle of nowhere. From scratch all of us [gunners] had to built our own camp - set up tents, toilets, ammo tents and the food tent - we were about 200 troops. We were warned that if we saw any unexploded shells to leave them well alone and report it - the place was littered with them from years of army training. After about two days we were ready for training. We would live of ratt packs for six days of the week for most of the time with an "braai" [bar-b-que] Saturday evenings and cooked food on Sundays. We were allowed six beers each on Saturdays evenings with the braai ... now increased from the two each during basics, if you could afford it, that is. Gunners caught drunk got DB[detention] and were removed from the bush camp by the MP`s - cant recall that this ever happened.

For the first time we could get into the Ratel troop carrier itself - there were four variations - 12.7mm-, 20mm-, 60mm-[mortar] and the 90mm Ratel[training were given at Bloemfontein]. Except for the 60mm all the others guns had a 7.62mm browning machine gun as a secondary weapon, used to get on target; once the 7.62mm hit the target ... all hell was let loose with the 20mm ... by so doing important ammo was not wasted. First we had to learn how to dismantle our individual guns - I opted for the 20mm. I now had three weapons to clean - 20mm gun, 7.62mm and my R-4 rifle, which I seldom used hereafter. The gunners and drivers used to help each other a lot - they had the most work when it came to inspections ! Because of this a special bond developed between gunner and driver. The dismantling excercise was no joke, especially on the 20mm; lets just say it consisted of a lot of parts ! I remember disassembling and assembling that 20mm until I could do it in my sleep.

Next we had some turret-training. Like the 1-IB[2 liner corporal] the gunner also had a headset and could hear what the corporal was saying to other corporals in other Ratels. With a simple flick of an switch on the headset that could be cut off, and the corporal or gunner could talk to anyone in the Ratel itself. The gunner also got some training on the B-56 radio. The turret could turn 360 degrees. Inside it had two control arms - one was to elavate the gun barrel while the other turned the turret left or right. On the same control arms were the triggers for the guns - 7.62mm browning on the left and the 20mm on the right. It took some time to get used to left and right ... 7.62 and 20mm ... up and down ... and left and right ! Confusion reigned ... but with an angry corporal next to you ... you had no choice but to learn quickly !

Before we could do some practical firing, we first had some training concering the "sights" - this was of utmost importance, as well as being able to judge distance. The Ratel had a reach of more or less 2400m as I can recall. The sights was marked of in 200m lines [200/400/600 up to 2400m] and was divided down the middle from top to bottom ... 7.62mm on the left and the 20mm on the right. Needles to say, setting in the sight was very important. We were taught to measure off an accurate distance, of say 300m, put down a target, and then put our sights on 300m. A shot would be taken and the sights set accordingly - up or down according to where the shell exploded - before the target or over the target. Your sights was perfect when the 300m line of the sight was on the target ... and BOOM ... you hit it ! Now at last we had some time shoot ... and boy was it worth the wait and effort. At this stage we only used practice rounds - the 20mm had another two rounds - HE[high explosive] and armour piercing - we would use them in Phase3.

Now that we learned all we had to, we had an examination ... not like school ... it was all practical. Disassemble, assemble in a certain time ... knowing the B-56 radio[signals, radio silence, etc] ... setting of sights ... and shooting. We all passed the test and we were proud to be gunners ... we were even being treated better by our superiors. Phase2 was behind it was time for pass ... I even straved myself to take a ratt pack home for my family ! 

[Maritz]

Phase3 - Platoon Training

Now that we 18 year olds could handle guns, it was time for the next step - training together with the other troops as a unit in the Ratel. Back we went into the bush at Riemvasmaak - today again ihabited by the mud khoi-san, unexploded shells and all - hope somebody told them to report any unexploded shells and grenades ! The first part of Phase3 consisted of the occupants of a Ratel working together - the second part of a "platoon" of Ratels [normally 4] working together.

More about the awesome Ratel. The Ratel was designed and built in SA. As I mentioned it was 6x6 and made of thick armoured steel and small windows - Russian RPG was its biggest enemy, it could pierce the steel and cause havoc. It was built V-shaped to absorbe landmine explosions - mines would blow of one wheel - no problem the Ratel had six and would continue ... on towards the commie scum. In case of enemy fire it could close up its windows at the drivers side[special plates] with the flick of a button. The driver also had a special hatch to escape through the floor if things got really hot. The Ratel was virtually a tank without tracks - tracks being a weak point - once it hit a landmine it came to a stand still with the track being damaged. The exact number of people inside, not 100% sure, but something like this ... you had your driver in front; corporal[2 liner] and gunner in the turret; 6 troops and a corporal[1 liner] in middle[one troop had a LMG machine gun, the other a russian RPG - confiscated from SWAPO] and a "budgy gunner" at the back with another browning. The cleaning of the guns was a nightmare and was usually done late at night after the days manoeuvres - we used to clean the guns with jet feul before the next morning`s inspection.

A friend of mine [recon operator] once told me that he witnessed a Ratel operating with three wheels - landmine damage - it had a left front wheel ... a right middle wheel ... and a left back wheel ... and being 6x6 it could still operate ... obviously not as well, but could get back to base to be fixed by the tiffies. A good movie on the net about the SWA/Angolan war is "The Last Domino" - its in seven parts - check it out. It should also be remebered when these SWAPO jungly bunies first saw the Ratel they did not know what it was [new White creation] - they tried to attack it with their AK`s ! - old school Whitey`s would simply ride over them - rules of engagement - dont waste ammo if you could kill otherwise.

The Ratel`s purpose was to get the troops inside as close to enemy lines as possible ... drop `em ... withdraw ... and back `em up with fire power so that they could get as close as possible to the enemy without being killed. "Fire and move" was another tactic employed by the SADF - troops moving alongside the Ratel ... backed up by the 20mm or 90mm, depending on the situation. A specific drill we underwent all to many times would consist of the following - The corporal next to me  in the turret would suddenly yell out while riding : "Target left nine `o clock ... approximately 500m ..." The Ratel would come to an immediate standstil. I would swing the turret left looking for a target ... identifying it lock my sights on 500m on the target ... answer "target identified" ... he would reply "fire" ... I would comply. Nine out of ten times the target would be struck.

Another familiar drill was "trench cleaning". We would move as close to the trenches as possible where the enemy would be hiding ... drop the troops and retreat[at this stage only the corporal and two gunners - myself and the "budgey gunner"] would be in the vehicle with the driver. Getting a nice view of the trenches ... we would park on more or less level terrain ... and let loose with the 20mm ... firing over the trenches at the enemy and keeping their heads down. This would enable the troops to get to the trenches. At about 15-20m from the trenches they would throw in hand grenades to immobilize the enemy ... and finally they would enter the enemy`s liar ... shooting at anything that moved. These were all drills and we never got to use them.

We were on ratt packs six out of seven days of the week. We slept in open terrain under the stars with scorpions, Rooi Katte[small carnivore] and an occasional puff adder our only companions. The silence was deafening being about 100km from civilization - the night sky a site to behold. I hated the army but loved Nature ... always had. I had made some good friends - at this time the SADF was Whites only - we even had an ex-Rhodesian who was as racist as hell. He shared first hand expereriences with us about the africoons and what he and his family had been through - nobody had to convince me the scum they were - this attitude my father had nurtured deep within me from childhood ... and for good reason. 

These drills brought us closer as a team ... a unit. Must admit it was pretty strange for me as I have always been a loner. But I had no choice ... work together ... or get left behind. I found out later in life that is the way it is ... of course without giving up your principles. Years later I watched a video which reminded me of the Ratel ... only difference was that these guys were in a tank and in actual contact [Afghanistan/Russina war] - "The Beast" - to me its the greatest war movie after "Saving Private Ryan".

[Maritz]

Phase4 - Company Training

In the final phase we did various drills together as a company before being deployed to different regions in the country. The drivers had to master various driving formations and parking drills in contact[war] situations - interesting drill was keeping a formation of Ratels` refs the same; in took good communications to achieve this; by doing so the enemy, when not seeing the Ratels, could not work out how many vehicles there was. The gunners did their normal firing drills - something new was the "fire and move" drill done by vehicles only, with the troops remaing inside; and crossing little "koppies"[hills] - one vehicle went out in front, when it was sure it was safe, the others followed. The troops went through their normal drills, only difference, the had to synchronize it with troops from other platoons. In this phase everything came together.

As we were well trained by now, it did not take us long to master the drills. After a few weeks we were deployed to Rooi Kop[61 Meg], a few miles from Walvis Bay. We flew with a Hercules plane - an aircraft mostly used to deliver post and parcels. I thought Upington was dry, but this place was just sand ... lots of it ... dunes of it - the most famous Dune 7. I have never seen such a lot of armoured vehicles in one place; mostly Ratels and some tanks[Elephant tanks]. The majority had been damaged in the SWA/Angolan war - they were in bad shape. We had to take working parts from all over and put together "workable" vehicles. The drivers and tiffies checked the engines[V-10`s] while the gunners sorted out the cannons. Inspections was a nightmare in this place due to the sandstorms !

Some days we did manoeuvres in the desert while other days we stood gaurd at an Intelligence compound somewhere between there and nowhere. The structure looked like a dune from the outside and stretched a few levels underground - from above it looked like desert. Two troops were stationed at the gate with two troops at the entrance to the compound, searching people that entered and monitoring two or three cameras - till today I have no idea what went on inside. This went on for about a month and a half.

From there we were deployed back in S-Africa - Durban mud areas[Umlazi/Kwamakuta and Kwamashu] in a base called Group 10. We swapped the Ratels for Caspirs[troop carrier with 7.62 browning]. We had to keep the ANC[AK-47] and the Inkatha Freedom Party[self-made weapons and pangas] apart - racism at its worse - Xhosa vs Zoeloe. We searched houses and set up road blocks, confiscating huge amounts of weapons[mainly AK`s] and arresting the perpretrators. We saw daily shootings and petrol bombings - SA was coming apart at the seems. The SADF disliked the ANC strongly and helped out the IFP - the one was communist the other nationalistic. All in all I disliked both and hated being in the cross-fire - my attitude was : let them sort each other out. Some mornings we were up at 2AM doing some raid in these areas - it was chaotic.

After about two months we returned to Rooi Kop and finally to Upington where I could close this chapter in my life - I did one camp in 1993. I can`t say I loved the army, but it did teach me a lot and made me more mature. Soon after that the SADF fell apart and was incorporated with the communist scum that we were trained to hate and kill - Umkhontwe and APLA. The White permanent force members were pushed out and most became mercenaries - I even know of one in Iraq. I Look at the mostly, spineless youth of today, and wonder how different it would`ve been if they experienced what we did. Today the nigger defence farce is no force - but an pathetic aids-ridden ghost, and would easily fall to a well directed fart !