HomeOld_PostsThe day I saw paratroopers being shot down

The day I saw paratroopers being shot down

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The story of Benson Gono

IT was on September 19 1978 at the height of the liberation war.
Although I was 12 years old, I vividly remember.
My late brother Kenneth and the majority of his friends at Morgenster Mission, about 35 kilometres south of Masvingo were now full-time mujibhas.
His secondary education had suffered a temporary setback after the closure of Makumbe Mission in Buhera as the war escalated.
On this particular day, I still remember witnessing some suspicious movements among the mujibhas around the institute.
My humble conclusion was that they were probably organising a pungwe which by now were a common occurrence.
Most of the pungwes were held in Chikarudzo Mountain on the south-western part of Morgenster Mission.
Since I was only 12 years old, I was referred to as ‘mutoto’ by the liberation fighters and was discouraged from attending pungwes in case of attacks from the Rhodesians.
However, at around 2pm soon after having lunch, I heard a gunshot and it was fired from the eastern part of the mission where Chamatanda Dam, the sole water supply for the mission, was located.
Soon there was an exchange of gunfire.
Young as I was, it was my first time to hear gunshots and my heart pounded.
I was in shock.
You did not need anybody to tell you what to do.
Instincts were one’s commander.
I swiftly ran home and fortunately our house was about 500 metres from Morgenster Mission such that in no time at all, I was home.
There was confusion as people, including my parents, were jostling to take cover anticipating the worst.
In the house I rushed into my parents’ bedroom and hid under the bed.
After a couple of minutes, my whole family was in the house much to my relief as I came out of my cocoon.
As we sat down in our little lounge, eager to narrate to our parents how we had made it home from school, we heard the sudden sound of hovering helicopters.
It was as if war had been brought right at our homestead.
Again, there was the exchange of gunfire.
My father instructed us to remain in the house, but because of curiosity, I sneaked into the toilet because I wanted to peep through the window to see the choppers.
As fate would have it, for the first time I saw a military helicopter dropping off what I later learnt to be paratroopers, but the gunfire intensified as the helicopters kept dropping paratroopers.
Vanamukoma were shooting the paratroopers before they even landed.
There was dead silence in our house as the guerillas continued to gun down the Rhodesian paratroopers.
For about 15 minutes it was just the sound of gunfire, before the battle came to a halt.
We remained in the house as we feared for our lives.
I remember very well that one civilian called Lazarus was killed on that day.
He used to work for one Macgregor who was a lecturer at Morgenster Mission.
The wounded Rhodesians and those killed by vanamukoma were collected by their kith and kin that same night.
I was only 12 years old, but I still remember.
Compiled by Emergencey Mwale-Kamtande

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