Gunship Over Angola

As FTS Langebaanweg ground school hurtled through its merry six-week duration, the anticipation began to rise for the next real highlight in the lives of the 1/77 pupes – the seven-day Pupe’s Survival Course. This immediately followed ground school and preceded the month-long Christmas break.

The Pupe’s Survival Course was to take place at a spectacularly beautiful place called Kranshoek, equidistant between Plettenberg Bay and Knysna. Kranshoek lies on one of the most impressive stretches of coastline in South Africa, slap in the middle of the Outeniqua Forest near a forestry station called Harkerville.

An SAAF C-160 Transall, a large twin-engine transport aircraft, collected our entire overall-clad 1/77 Pupe’s Course from Langebaanweg and flew us to Oudtshoorn airfield. Then, using Bedford troop carriers, no doubt supplied by the local army base, we were transported by road through the Outeniqua Pass to a drop-off point located approximately 30 kilometres from Kranshoek.

At the drop-off point we were first searched for illegal contraband by the directing staff (or DSs, as they were known). Money, food and fishing equipment, in particular, were real no-no’s and a thorough inspection of each ‘survivor’ was conducted.

We were split into ‘syndicates’ of 11 individuals, the leader of each of which was handed a map, and then we were all given a briefing by one of our instructors. The briefing stated that we would have about 30 minutes to make good our ‘escape’ before ‘pursuers’ would be let loose, and ‘woe betide any pupe who was caught by the chasing pack’, as the instructors warned. Tortures too horrible to contemplate provided the impetus for fleet-of-footedness, and as soon as we were given the order we rapidly dispersed into the forest.

We were to try to reach the ‘safe haven’ at Kranshoek, marked as an X on the 1:250 000 map, as soon as possible. There we were to set up our own survival shelters, made with two panels from a parachute and the abundant pine straw and brush, and to survive on plants, berries and any of the local edible wildlife unfortunate to stumble into us, for a week or so.

I know that a handful of the guys were caught on the way to Kranshoek but I cannot recall that they suffered too heavily at the hands of the interrogators, just that they were delayed for a few hours in reaching the safe haven. Somehow, I was among the first of our group to reach Kranshoek in the late afternoon. Having been on the go, unfed, since 07h00 that morning, when we’d left Langebaanweg, our thoughts immediately turned to filling our depleted stomachs.

One member of our group had the bright idea to harvest some of the abundant sea life that inhabited the rocky bay below the Kranshoek cliffs. Having collected quite a quantity of little black shellfish, which some of the more knowing chaps called alikreukel (giant periwinkle), we found some old five-litre paint tins, filled them with sea water, lit a fire and set the tins on the fire to boil. Then the alikreukel were emptied into them.

A short while later, perhaps 20 minutes or so, the alikreukel were ready for consumption. Vile does not begin to describe the appalling taste; marble-sized pieces of a used tractor tyre would have been infinitely more tender and tasty. If that was the preferred way to prepare the dish renowned as a ‘Cape delicacy’, as I have been assured it is, then South Africa has a culinary problem of epic proportions.

It slowly dawned on us that we were there to survive. This could be done successfully only by using our wits and the survival lessons learnt in the classrooms of CFS Dunnottar and FTS Langebaanweg.

So, we chose the only practical option open to us: we pooled the quite substantial amount of cash that we’d each smuggled in, in the heels of our flying boots, and dispatched three of our number to the shops in Plettenberg Bay to buy food. One of the chosen three had a relative, his brother I think, who lived in Plett. So, when he and his two companions reached the nearest telephone, they called his brother who arrived soon afterwards to pick them up.

After spending a night of great luxury at a house in Plett, the next day the intrepid survivalists went into Pick n Pay and depleted the shelves of this fine store, to the great benefit and ultimate delight of those syndicate members waiting back at Kranshoek.

^{On the Pupe’s Survival Course – note the parachute panels in the background.}

Meanwhile, those of us who’d remained set about building the shelters that were to protect us from the elements for the next week. I learnt that a parachute has 22 panels. As there were eleven of us in each syndicate, and each syndicate was to share a single parachute, it meant two panels for each, which wasn’t much.