By Professor Charles Pfukwa

I HAVE narrated elsewhere how unit after unit was caught unawares and casualties were inevitable.
Meanwhile, the man responsible remained safe with his unit near where it all began, in Rateiwa Village in the headwaters of Nyatande River.
After all chaos had died down, commanders had the unenviable task of regrouping scattered units and rebuilding those that had lost men.
It was also around that time that a fresh fire force, the Fanya Haraka came in fresh from Nachingwea, Tanzania.
Several weeks later Action was summoned to the rear, probably he went as far as Chimoio.
I can only speculate why he was called up, for some it was out of sheer curiosity to see this daring comrade who could snatch a murungu in the middle of the country and march him to the border without being caught.
It required extraordinary pluck and daring to achieve this especially when it was easier to eliminate him, after all, he was just another enemy.
For some, out of sheer jealousy there were the complaints: This was an act of mischief, an act that had disrupted operations and the general ‘peace’ of the communal lands.
Worst of all comrades had been lost as the enemy made its follow-ups.
I hasten to repeat, all this is mere speculation.
Action was out of the country for some six weeks.
By the time he came back the whole detachment had changed its complexion.
He came back with a new rank detachment commander responsible for logistics and supplies.
He was now a living legend with everyone pointing out “that’s him the man who captured a bhunu and marched him to the border.”
It was a privilege to work with him and I managed to end up operating with him in that same area where he had brewed his mischief.
But his unit, the merry band of adventurers was scattered far and wide.
Shupai was made a seguranca in the same section, Ganyabvu became medic in another and Cobra was moved to another.
Tafirenyika Gondo took over the remnants of Action’s unit and followed the newly promoted Detachment Logistics and Supplies Commander into Epiphany Mission onwards into the same space where it all started, Arnoldine Mission.
I became part of that unit along with another section led by one Mike Roparevhu.
Our elders say “wafa wanaka” meaning it is not good to speak ill of the dead so I will not say much about my section leader, Tafirenyika Gondo.
Suffice to say his qualities as leader and courage fell far short of what we saw in Action and Robert.
At most, Gondo was a loud mouth who often boasted of his fighting prowess especially in the presence of civilians.
Up to the time of his death in April 1979 I do not remember him leading us into action the way I had seen Action and Robert do.
But then I digress here.
We had another operation on the railway line.
With Action this time, it was at Badely Station, which lies between Rusape and Headlands.
Records will show that there were three operations on the Harare-Mutare railway line in the duration of Chimurenga.
I can safely say I was one of those who participated in two of them along with Sauso.
Action directed all the three operations.
In addition, we laid mines ambushed farmers and carried out other sabotage operations.
It was a very busy time.
It kept some of us happy — we were always on our feet doing exactly what we set out to do, engaging the enemy.
Action once caned me after taking the law into my hands.
I think rather than soften me, it hardened my resolve and I became a cynic with cryptic character that only a few such as Sauso could penetrate.
It was all sparked by a five litre container of home brew skokiaan.
I will tell a bit on this story.
I went on an operation with my commander Gondo.
Mission: to lay a land mine on a bridge on the road from Inyati Mine to Headlands.
I made a mistake (and I will not blame it on Gondo though he interfered).
The hole was too deep so the mine did not explode.
On the following day I was asked to go and check what had gone wrong.
I have narrated this story elsewhere.
The catch was, tampering with a set mine is dangerous business which can cost lives.
The list of comrades who died in resetting a landmine is endless.
My trainer Jeppe Chibende died diffusing such a mine.
And he was an expert in explosives.
There was danger that this might be one and it appears some people looked forward to my demise.
Fortunately the ancestors guided me through.