I ONLY remember a handful of the team such as Sugar, Devil (there were two Devils), TJ10, Yutho, Fraser, Fantomas, Tom Chigaro, Lennon Gukurahundi and Ernest Shasha.
Mukoma Sugar ended up in Makoni Detachment along with Tsvairai Jongwa aka TJ10 and Devil Mapara.
Generally jovial and full of humour, I did not see much of him (Mukoma Sugar), but he spent his entire tour of duty in the area.
TJ10 was already a mature cadre who quickly rose to the rank of section political commissar.
He had his ‘O’ Levels.
He always read the paper and I recall how he read The Herald after the Chimoio tragedy on November 23 1977.
He was severely reprimanded by Cde Mike Pfumo for causing alarm and despondency.
Pfumo could hardly read nor write and he did not believe in getting information from pieces of paper.
I would have liked to read it, but I also had my problem with the illiterate cadres.
After the war, TJ10 went on to become a prominent civil servant and passed on around 2000.
Devil Mapara fascinated me.
A huge man who wore this huge black hat that made him look like Zorro.
I suspected he had seen the Zorro films.
He was one of those cadres who had the rare combination of brains, brawn and education.
He became seguranca and had this deep sense of camaraderie.
I picked this up in a moment of crisis and I lived to tell the tale.
I still have a soft spot of this gentle giant.
He moved out of the ranks of the Zimbabwe National Army after serving for some 20 years.
Yutho Muurayi was an enigma, sometimes unpredictable.
I never saw much of him after deployment.
When introducing himself, he would pronounce himself as ‘Yutho Killer’.
I recall this emphasis clearly on our first few days in the detachment.
He fell along with 12 others at Banhu village near St Barbaras in April 1977.
It is said he arrived along with others at the village sometime after sunrise.
As a result they were observed by a call sign in one of the hills.
Fireworks started at 9am and Yutho was one of the 13 casualties.
He is recorded in the Book of Fallen Heroes as Jethro Muuri.
There was Fantomas, a huge hulk approaching the size of Devil Mapara.
He also rose through the ranks to be section leader.
It is said he died trying to defuse a land mine.
Nobody gave me the full details, but it is said it was after some argument and he had had a few drinks.
I am not quite sure how much of his remains were recovered for burial.
Garikai became a seguranca in the detachment.
I am not sure where he fell, but probably at Manjoro Village, with Dzasukwa and Bazooka, Baba vaDhebhudhe.
There was Tom Chigaro, quiet, soft-spoken to the point of obscurity.
Tall, thin as a needle, he was one of the fire demolition experts.
I only got to fully know him after the deployment as we blasted the railway line at Mapinduzi.
There was Dhiabhoros Satan whose name was a complete contrast with his character.
Diabhorosi was affable, pleasant and easy-going.
He carried an AK that was designed to launch grenades.
These grenades saved him one day when he was cornered by the Fireforce.
I will dwell at some length on Cde Fraser.
Cde Joe Fraser!
Within the team was Cde Fraser and he was one of the 40 who went into the Gorongosa forest for special training.
On that maiden journey up the Honde Valley, the whole train of comrades was probably a few hundred metres long.
It required an experienced team of commanders to manage such a number.
I saw Cde Temai moving up and down co-ordinating the march.
There were various starts and stops, but we made smooth progress through half the night resting briefly here and there.
Cde Fraser was carrying a caixha.
It took a heavy toll on him and at some point after about midnight the human train stopped again and this time it was unusually a long rest.
It was Cde Fraser who had dropped to the ground again – drained of all energy – completely exhausted.
Someone took up his caixha and we resumed march.
Some 30 minutes later, the train stopped and again it was Cde Fraser.
He was now sitting on the ground like a dishevelled civilian with no trace of the military discipline that had been painstakingly drilled into him for so many months.
In the darkness I saw Cde Temai Makwiro, whip in hand, standing menacingly over Cde Fraser who was openly sobbing expressing his exhaustion.
The stick descended on Cde Fraser and amidst his frustration, confusion and exhaustion declared he was ready to give up.
He raised his SKS rifle in surrender.
“Cde, I give up,” he said.
“Here is your weapon, I can’t go any further.
“I want to go back to Mozambique and be a simple refugee, a civilian.
“Please leave me here!”
Tears rolled down the bearded face of a full grown man as he protested.
After several lashes, someone took his rifle and another took up his bandolier.
Cde Fraser groggily got to his feet and the slow train resumed.
I still have a photographic image of Cde Fraser in silhouette on the march, without his gun and bandolier, a full civilian with Cde Temai Makwiro at his heels regularly nudging him with a whip.
This was a humiliating experience which always pushed me on whenever I repeated this journey later.
After that, there was no further incident until dawn and by then we were safely in the cover of Sanyamandwe Village.
The Cde Fraser experience became a valuable lesson for us all.
The march into Zimbabwe was no child’s play.
It was no picnic or stroll in the park.
It required mental and physical strength and some stubborn never-say-die attitude.
At sunset we were on the march again.
This was a shorter journey to Nyachibva Village, the rear base for Makoni Detachment.
The village was a fairly inaccessible area cut to the north by a range of hills that rolled out to Dziva and St David’s Bonda.
To the east it was bound by the Chirarwe Range.
To the west it was hemmed in by the bald domes of Mushanawani Range.
The only easy route was southward where Nyachibva gave way to Bethania and beyond to Gandanzara Detachment.
Upon arrival at Nyachibva, the group of 45 was split into two.
One contingent of 23 recruits proceeded to Chiduku under the command of Cde Owen Giri.
Sadly, Comrade Giri was never to return.
He died in an ambush a few months later in the farms of Inyazura.
Probably he lies at the place called ‘The Butcher’ in Rusape.
My lasting image of him is of a tall slender guerilla, very dignified, wearing a huge hat and a bomber jacket.
He is recorded in the Book of Fallen Heroes.
I was one of the 22 who remained behind in Makoni detachment with Augustine Mhere and Temai Makwiro and we proceeded to blast the railway line at Matinhidza late September 1977.
Cde Fraser proceeded to Chiduku in the group of 23 and I never saw him again.
My lasting memory of him is of a wailing comrade surrendering his weapon and requesting to return to relative ease of the refugee camp in Mozambique!