So, the Army Chief of Staff had just directed me to release foreign soldiers from their commitments so they could leave the country before radical elements took control of the country and Security Forces. And, in a final admonition, he recommended Pegi and I leave as well. What a strange turn of events! The very thought of abandoning the people that I had traveled 4000 miles to defend was disturbing.
But the circumstances were even more disturbing. My whole world was topsy turvy. I left Houston with the hope of finding a career as a godly warrior. In my mind, the struggle of the Rhodesians was a righteous cause in its opposition to guerilla forces backed by the Soviets and Chinese.
To me, this wasn’t a matter of black versus white. It was a matter of self-determination and the development of democratic government where just a century before there had only been tribal warfare. Yes, as in our own American history, white pioneers had brought civilization. But, contrary to American history, the Rhodesian pioneers had not driven indigenous settlers off of their lands. Instead, they had found a way to live cooperatively in their midst.
Yet, no matter how different the history of the white settlement of Rhodesia was from American and even South African history, a troubling divide persisted which retarded black opportunity. When it came down to it, Rhodesians were not fighting for some noble vision of equality. No, Rhodesians were fighting for their own personal way of life. And now that international sanctions were putting the final nails in the coffin of Rhodesian white minority rule, Rhodesians were finally discussing a meaningful role for blacks in government and every day life.
It had come down to this--the war and sanctions had bankrupted the nation and the comfortable life of privilege that whites had been living fueled by the cheap labor of Rhodesian blacks. (The similiarity to American Southern slavery was impossible to ignore.) Just as lack of foreign exchange made the munitions of war scarce, so it inhibited the ability of Rhodesians to travel outside southern Africa or to import the vehicles and electronic conveniences which were part of Western European living.
At this time in April of 1978, the Rhodesian military was fully capable of destroying its armed enemies. But, international opinion was so strongly marshaled against them, Rhodesian attempts to disguise every cross-border raid met with universal condemnation, even from their strategic ally, the Republic of South Africa.
I am not sure how much I was conscious of all of this as I rode my motorcycle back out to Llewellyn Barracks, but I certainly felt this as my mind and motorcycle both whirred down the highway. No sooner than I had settled myself in my office that the Regimental Sergeant Major appeared at my door with the news that Col Mickelsfield wanted to see me.
It had been a few months since my last encounter with Col Mickelsfield and I had attended a few of the “prayer meetings” at the Sergeant’s Mess with Pegi just to try and show that I was a “team player.” Was it possible that Maj Gen MacIntyre had informed Col Mickelsfield of my new assignment? No, that wasn’t likely as the General had been very plain that the Army could not recognize any changes in the political situation. So, what was this about? Maybe the Colonel needed me to do something special as base chaplain or maybe he wanted an update of when Eugene Wiseman would be joining me.
No matter what it was, I was feeling pretty comfortable in my position having just returned from a meeting with the Chief of Staff. I entered Col Mickelsfield’s office with assurance and a cordial smile. As soon as I sat down across from his desk, it was clear that he was pissed about something.
“Padre, what is this I hear about you meeting with the Chiefs at HQ? Are you going over my head or behind my back?”
Oh boy! This wasn’t good!
“No sir! Generals MacIntyre and MacClean asked that I report to them periodically concerning the morale of foreign soldiers. This was just one in an ongoing series of meetings that I have had with them over the last six months. This assignment was given to me by Col Wood before I was stationed here in Bulawayo.”
This seemed to settle him down a bit when he realized that this had nothing to do with his previous attempts to act as my commanding officer instead of just the base commander where I was domiciled. Of course, Norman Wood was gone to South Africa, Eugene Wiseman still hadn’t reported for duty and I didn’t have a friend in the new Chaplain General, Bill Dodgen.
“Well, from now on, you are not to travel without my express authority. Dismissed!”
I should have been concerned, but I realized that it no longer made a difference. In a few weeks I would be going on thirty days leave from which I would not return. Col Mickelsfield and his egoistic pettiness no longer mattered. I had already left mentally.
The following night, Pegi and I had dinner with Stan Hannan and his wife. I unburdened myself that evening, telling Stan of my meeting with Gen MacIntyre. Stan agreed that majority rule was now inevitable, He supported the General’s suggestion that we should return to the USA.
The following days were a blur of details as Pegi gave notice to her employer and we sold off our few possessions, all under the guise of going on a long leave. No one seemed to notice or maybe they just didn’t care that it was odd to be ridding yourself of all possessions for a month-long trip overseas!
The most difficult part of leaving was parting with our dogs. We found homes for all of them and over a very long weekend, each one of the five left our home with their new families. Dixie the Lab, Sheba the Ridgeback and Groucho the Cocker Spaniel had all left when a couple came to pick up the Woola the Springer Spaniel. Woola was the smartest of the dogs and had figured out what was happening. When Pegi called for her, she took off around the house and hid in the the boulders bordering our neighbor’s yard!
Finally, (and my eyes are tearing up as I write this 31 years later), it was time to drop off Rebel with a family Pegi had met through her work. Ridgebacks were generally one-person dogs. Rebel wouldn’t even approach someone unless I “introduced” them. We knew that we had to do something special to effect the transfer to a new owner.
We had his new owners over for dinner. Then we took Rebel with us to their house for dinner. At the suggestion of our vet, we fed him and left him in their garage overnight. The theory was that he would awake the next morning and would have made transfer of loyalty to his new owner.
I told him to “stay” and drove off with Pegi. About 2:00 in the morning we got a phone call. Rebel had broken through a window in the garage to escape. He was somewhere in the neighborhood, howling as he wandered looking for me.
We dressed quickly and drove over to where Rebel could be heard wailing. After a few minutes, I found him. He was limping, having cut his front paw on the broken glass of the garage window. He was confused and wouldn’t come to me when I called, but he wasn’t running away from me either. I mustered up my voice of authority and said, “Rebel, sit!” He sat down and I was able to walk over and cradle his big silly head in my arms.
We took him home with us for the rest of the night, visiting the vet after sunrise. After stitching up his paw, the vet gave us a strong sedative for him. He told us to dose his food and let him sleep in the new owner’s house overnight, hopefully in a room without outside access. By the time the sedative wore off, he would think that his new owner was me.
This attempt worked just fine. I would never see my Rebel again.
Over the years as Pegi and I have lamented leaving Rhodesia, our eyes begin to water as we remember Rebel. On a few occasions when our emotions have overcome us, especially if we have had a few drinks, we have weeped for Rebel blaming Ian Smith and his political incompetence for the holes in our hearts. To us, Rebel epitomized Rhodesia--the beautiful, the unusual, special, the lonely, the loved and lost.
Next: “The French Would Sell Their Mothers!”
You made me want to cry with you guys :(
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