By Cde Canaan Nyika Mugadzaweta
aka Cde Brooks Chinembiri

BY 1978, ZANLA forces were in total control of some parts of Mberengwa, Mwenezi, Chivi and even parts of Beitbridge and Filabusi in what we termed Gaza Operational Province and the Rhodesians termed it the ‘Russian Front’.
The road from Neshuro to Mataga, passing through Matibi Mission Hospital in Mwenezi, was our prime target. We had successfully rendered it impassable. It was a no-go area for the Rhodesian forces. They could only come by air.
One afternoon, my sixth sense told me to lead the afternoon patrol.
We had information that the Rhodesians had moved downstream along Runde River, in the northerly direction towards Matibi Hospital.
We were camped at Zhazhaumwe Base under chief Mawarire, along Runder River about 10km from Matibi Mission Hospital.
Intelligence sources had indicated that they had come from somewhere near or around Nhenga Railway Siding.
Information indicating that the Rhodesians had been cited moving along Runde River, downstream, was therefore correct.
My worry was the sudden death of intelligence indicating their exact location.
It was impossible for the enemy to suddenly disappear into thin air.
I had a hunch the enemy was somehow trying to deceive us, that the enemy also had information of our location.
At around half past two in the afternoon, I took four comrades for the afternoon patrol.
We moved towards the north, a direction that would lead us near the railway line.
We were using the river bed terrain, so we were actually moving along the river. After about two kilometres we decided to venture into the villages to get more information on the whereabouts of the Rhodesians. As we entered the villages, we found ourselves at mudhara Job’s homestead. He was home.
When he saw us he immediately rushed to us: “Message yasvika here? (Did you receive my message),” he questioned me.
Before I could answer, he asked me if everything was okay.
“Hamuna kusangana murwizi umo here? Aiwa kana musina kuvaona vakuonai (Did you meet them at the river? If you did not see them, they must have seen you). Comrade zvinhu hazvina kumira zvakanaka, muvengi arimuno. (Comrade, things are not ok, the enemy is around).”
I just gave a wink to Cde Manzungu and we took battle positions.
I did not want to appear worried about mudhara Job‘s information.
Inwardly, I agreed with him that the enemy must have seen us or that we were actually in the enemy’s killing bag.
I asked the old man the number of enemy forces. Before he could answer, Cde Manzungu drew my attention to a young boy, probably six years old, running for his dear life towards us.
When he was about 50m away, he shouted: “Vari murwizi umo ndaona vari vana (They are along the river, I saw four of them).”
I ordered both mudhara Job and the boy to ‘disappear’. Again my intuition told me they had seen us and were actually moving in for the kill. We remained in our positions.
We did not have to wait for a long time.
After a minute or so, we saw them in battle formation, advancing towards us.
They were idiots. That’s the first thought that ran in my head as I saw them from my vantage position
How could they advance carelessly to a target they could not see?
I had concealed myself behind a huge mango tree.
The other three comrades, including Manzungu, had taken positions near mudhara Job’s three-bedroomed house.
We were the ones who would have the surprise element.
We were definitely going to engage the enemy and retreat without any fatality.
We waited for them.
They kept advancing silently.
Thirty, 20, then 10m.
My finger was ready on the trigger, safety catch on automatic.
I could not hold myself anymore.
They were so near.
My gunsights zoomed at the one who was at the far right, near my mango tree.
I softly squeezed the trigger releasing a short burst of fire.
The bullets ripped through his chest.
The other comrades also rapidly fired at the enemy.
Two more went down.
The third just threw his gun in the air and raised his arms in surrender.
“Hold your fire,” I shouted to the comrades.
‘Stand still, ukafamba chete wafa (Any movement you are dead),” I shouted to the enemy soldier.
He froze.
We advanced to check on those we had gunned down. They were dead. There was no life in them. Blood gushed out from the huge holes created by the bullets. I ordered the enemy soldier to take off his clothes.
This was standard procedure in such situations. It did not only make the enemy harmless, it also served to humiliate them.
I was not sure of the number of the enemy forces, some could still be lurking in the area and might shoot at us causing unwarranted mortalities.
We immediately left mudhara Job’s homestead with our invaluable captive.
In a short and quick debriefing, he told us his name and where he came from.
He was from the Rhodesian Light Infantry (RLI) unit that was was based at Nhenga Railway Siding.
He told us that they were not on patrol but had just slipped out of the camp for a beer drink.
When we returned to our base, we found the comrades we had left behind ready for battle.
They had heard the gunfire and were preparing to come to our rescue as reinforcements.
They were all surprised to see us frog marching a black Rhodesian soldier (mupuruvheya) into the base.
I surrendered him to our security officer Cde Bayayi for interrogation.
I was later told that the soldier’s unit had been deployed at Buchwa Mine and later deployed to Nhenga Railway Siding, and that more reinforcements were on their way from Salisbury.
These were groups to be rapidly deployed in any engagements we had with the Air force and were to be used as stop groups or fire force.
This was valuable information we would use in days to come.
We had to deal with the captured soldier.
It was always a difficult task but necessary to carry out for security reasons.
I decided to get rid of him that night.
We were freedom fighters not murderers. How do you eliminate an unarmed man in the battlefield?
Normally we would use unorthodox methods like tying the enemy’s hands and feet then throw him into crocodile-infested pools or make him dig his own grave then bury him alive.
Nobody liked shooting and killing anybody at point blank range, especially one unarmed. That image, in most cases, remains indelibly etched in your mind forever. Most comrades refused to carry out such a task.
Moving around with him was too dangerous as this would attract unnecessary attacks on us or else he could manage to disarm one of us with dire consequences.
The question of letting him go free was out of the question. These were paid murderers. The grief and cruelty they were inflicting on our people was unbearable and immeasurable. That night he would have his last supper, I decided.
After supper, I called him to the command position, gave him a cigarette and after a good smoke, I told him to leave the base silently so that he could return to Nhenga Siding.
Unbeknown to him, I had given two AK47 rifles to two Mujibha’s who were very excited to shoot an enemy soldier for the first time. I had already selected an ambush position about 20m away from the base along the road the ‘freed’ enemy soldier would traverse. About forty seconds after he left, I heard the ear-splitting sound from two short bursts of the AK47s and I knew my order had been carried out .