The $1,243,255,000.00 Lunch for Three

This is the full version of The Encouraging Angels post, a presentation of the history, background and undercurrents that created HyperInflation in Rhodesia-Zimbabwe presented by the facts, stories and my experiences.

This is Stan’s Article from Encouraging Angels.

#1 To understand Africa… you have to live in Africa…

• To understand Africa… you have to live in Africa…
• South Africa segregated race with “Laws”
• Rhodesia segregated race with “By the Rules”
• Rhodesia’s birth to the world started in 1890
• From the late 1940s to the 1960s…
• 1965 the Rhodesians told the English Crown to “Take a hike!”
• From 1965 to 1980 the guerilla war
• The Communists lost the Military War against the Rhodesians
• Transitional Independence of Zimbabwe Rhodesia
• The Do-It-Yourself Backyard Concrete Yacht
• Two that flew the coop… and took the coop with them

Not visit… but live there for a year. Staying in the bush with black African Villagers… not gazing out the window of the 5-Stars, 16^th story restaurant of the Monomotapa Hotel while eating a four-course meal and reading a fabricated American African history book. Africa is mostly black African and to truly know Africa is to know its people. American blacks would also benefit greatly from living there and learning about their ancestors. The dynamics of African “liberation struggles” are completely different than the American Civil Rights movement.

But there is constant rivalry between most Tribes. Issues like this fester still… so-and-so stole my ancestor’s cow 4000 years ago or that Tribe enslaved my ancestors 1500 years ago killing the men, keeping the women for breeding and eating the children for protein. Even though issues like this occurred for millennia they have been passed down around the nightly bonfire and are still issues of antagonism between Tribes now. But overall, black Africans are genuinely beautiful people who live in an entirely different environment and thought world to ours.

Much of Western and American African History is false, inaccurate or fabricated “feel good” history, as illusionary as Disneyland. Written by “experts” who have never set foot on the continent and who compound this illusion by writing African History based on previous building blocks of falsities. Like Kwanza… bullshytte… created in America by a FBI collaborator.

Living in Africa will give you the understanding that most blacks care primarily about their Tribe and Family. They could care less about “Democracy,” voting, any government laws, Communism, Capitalism, borders or much of any of what modern civilization brought through the heavy-handed Colonizers of Europe and England. Most Africans don’t look past the end of the day and certainly not days, weeks or months out. They are beautiful and caring people who live the moment and lead a simple and generally enjoyable life. Tomorrow is a generally meaningless concept to them. We could learn from them.

Americans think Africa is all black Africans… just like black and white Africans think they’ll be shot by Al Capone’s men in Chicago. That is just TV, movies and misconceptions. That’s what my Wife thought back then… well, it maybe isn’t too far from that now… I mean the getting shot in Chicago thing. There are black Africans and white Africans (white, Oriental, Hispanic and Asian Indian are collectively referred to as whites). Some white Africans have been born and raised in these African countries or lived in parts of Africa longer than some black Africans have. Such is my Wife, British, but born and raised there and holding both Rhodesian/Zimbabwe and British citizenship as many whites did… but more so her Mother… 14^th generation Jewish South African. By the way, she is the most perfect of Mother-In-Laws. Not just saying… she is

To say the whites who have lived in Africa for generations are not white Africans is like saying a U.S. Citizen, who was born and raised in Minnesota, then moved from Minnesota to Arizona, is not an American in Arizona. That being said, black Africans have different concepts of thought and time, just as others races and ethnic groups of the world have different thought processes, being raised in their cultures and societies. The emotions of black Africans born and raised in Tribal Africa is on a different intensity and dimensional plane than whites born and raised in Africa and raised in their conventional European white Families and culture.

South Africa segregated race with “Laws”

Commonly referred to as Apartheid. Separation of people by their race by LAW. The Class of Race was… White, Indian, Colored, black African. No sexual intercourse across those racial lines. No intermarriage between different races and classes. No advancement into another class… you were what THEY say you were. THESE WERE SOUTH AFRICAN LAWS… strictly enforced by jail sentences, fines and or getting beaten over the head with a nightstick.

Law Enforcement of the world could have learned from the South Africans all about riot control. The South Africans dealt with it for decades and tuned it to a fine science. Because that is what Apartheid brought about en masse and frequently… riots. Like the time I’m walking down a street in Pretoria, South Africa and wondering why, on this bright sunny week day, it was so incredibly quiet.

No people and no vehicles on the street. Quiet. Then the thought crossed my mind that it’s too quiet. My hunger overrode my sense of concern as I was looking for a place to buy something to eat with my few remaining pennies and all stores were locked and closed. Odd. Was this a South African Boer Holiday I was not aware of? Empty and silent for this upscale part of this modern downtown area bordering on the black ghettos. That thought quickly left my mind as a BSAP police car roared around the corner towards me, smoking tires and sliding sideways as they slammed the brakes on, and four policemen, two white and two black, exited the vehicle.

The British South African Police (BSAP) were also commonly known by that “carry over name” from the past of the British mucking around in South Africa’s affairs. They were also known as the BSAP in Rhodesia, even though the South Africans had nothing to do with the BSAP police in Rhodesia. But it was amazing to me that these four huge men could have fit in their little compact putt-putt police car, as they feverishly pointed at me and yelled something in snarling sounding Afrikaans words, more suited to angry growling dogs.

One of the black cops finally yelled at me in heavily Afrikaner accented English… “Get out of here… r-r-run!” pointing his nightstick at the direction behind me. I hesitated, ready to ask why of this black cop, whose rolling “Rs” from the Afrikaans influence in pronunciation of the English word “r-r-r-run,” were still echoing in my head. Then, what looked like a million pissed off black Africans came following their path surging around that same corner yelling and chanting and generally giving the impression of deadly danger to anyone in their path.

They were Zulus, displaying their warrior qualities and letting everyone know they were pissed off with the shytte conditions they lived in. Oddly, they didn’t burn much down or loot stores with the exception of beating to death the odd person they came across. Well I was definitely the odd person so, I ran as fast as I could, backpack bouncing up and down further than my stride each step, until I reached an area where I saw people and life looked normal. It must have been a couple of miles that I’d run.

Being the naïve American, later in the day I walked into the black African section of the passenger train station in Pretoria. The snarky looks of blacks, the anger and hatred you could sense under the surface as they were looking at this white boy. Most of this hatred in South Africa had little to do with race laws, the main reason being that most of the black Africans were Zulus. Black African warriors who are difficult to get along with by anyone. They fight with every other Tribe. I don’t think they like anyone, even themselves.

But I can still feel it when I close my eyes and think about the thousands of them staring at this white boy. The air was so thick it was hardly breathable. After what I realized what I’d done, I turned and got out of their area faster than I got in. The black African mentality was totally different in Rhodesia than South Africa. South African blacks were full of hate and Rhodesian Blacks seemed generally content… not happy… but content.

Rhodesia segregated race with “By the Rules”

Rhodesia didn’t have laws against racial integration… however they did have “By the Rules” which self-governed segregation but was not as effective. “By the Rules” was an unspoken understanding by both black and white Africans to stay out of each other’s areas during leisure time. To stay separate with the exception of work. Leisure, living, entertainment and such were separated.

I discovered this rule the hard way one evening when I walked into a bar down a back alley by the Meikles Hotel, which I used to frequent. Too much to drink combined with the ignorance of an American new to Africa. Hearing the music and knowing from liquor signs that it was a bar, I got all of ten foot inside, before I promptly got thrown out the door by the black patrons who simply said “stay out!” to which I obliged, noting the intensely serious looks on their faces that they would hurt me if I didn’t go.

Rhodesia’s birth to the world started in 1890

The country of Rhodesia was named after Englishman Cecil Rhodes in the 1890s who, through the British South Africa Company and the financial backing and investment of the European Rothschilds’ Bankers, began extensive exploration and mining operations there. British citizens were encouraged to migrate there. The Rothschilds dumped their investment before the Rhodesian Bush War of 1965 to 1980 began. They must have had an epiphany.

From the late 1940s to the 1960s…

The British began giving independence to colonies they’d formed, conquered, governed and lands they’d literally robbed over the centuries. They demanded to governing authorities and British citizens living in these colonies all over the globe, that the indigenous population be given control of the countries their citizens and investments be damned.

On the continent of Africa, after giving independence to all its other colonies, the British Government demanded that Majority Rule be given to all Rhodesians, black, white, landowners or not, literate or ignorant. In 1965 the Rhodesians, fittingly in fear of black African Majority Rule destroying Rhodesia, said no to these demands, and broke away from Mother England. Britain be damned!

But Mother England was not about to let her misbehaving child go its own way. Britain was still immersed in and suffering ‘Delusions of Grandeur’ from “The Sun Never Sets on The British Empire” days… oblivious at the time, that those days of power were long gone. Britain was about to attempt to give that unruly child Rhodesia a good olde English “hiding,” …known otherwise in the world as a “right bloody arse whupping” …financially, politically and reaching on down into each and every Rhodesian’s life as they believed all Rhodesians were defying Britain and “The Crown.”

Britain initially considered sending British troops to Rhodesia. Invading the country and forcing them to relinquish control to the majority… blacks… at gun point. But the majority of blacks also had no interest in reading Shakespeare, getting “Independence” or bowing to the “Queen Mum.” The majority black and white Africans of Rhodesia’s military enthusiastically invited the British to invade saying… “We’re not going anywhere. We’ll be waiting! We look forward to a ‘dust up’ with you!”

I believe the South Africans, known as Afrikaners and ‘Boers,’ would have militarily supported the Rhodesians, since they were still pissed off from the Boer War days and the mass genocide of Afrikaners by the British. The South Africans had one of the most modern and technologically advanced societies in the World with the most potent and deadly air force and land army on the continent of Africa. South Africa was the world’s fifth largest producer and exporter of modern weapons systems. You will read more about this later.

1965 the Rhodesians told the English Crown to “Take a hike!”

Since every British Colony that had previously been given Majority Rule by Mother England had imploded within a few years, the Rhodesians refused to let that happen. The Rhodesians wanted 10 years to train the blacks to responsibly run the country, in hopes of it not being ruined.

The British said no to this, so the Rhodesians Declared Unilateral Independence from Britain in 1965 and slowly began the transformation to a majority run country. Despite that, the United Nations imposed Economic and Military Sanctions on Rhodesia at the urging of the United States, Britain and UN members. No country could buy, sell or trade with them. It was as if Rhodesia didn’t exist. So, the war in Rhodesia began with the West and Communist East working together to defeat them.

Then the British Military High Command had a rare moment of mental clarity… an epiphany, you might say. Intensely nervous, the British Military High Command, most of whom had a long stick up their posterior, but who suddenly recalled having seen the Rhodesian air and ground forces in combat, stopped dead in their tracks. The idea of a British invasion of Rhodesia was immediately frozen by them for fear of them being handed an embarrassing and disastrous defeat at the hands of the Rhodesians.

So, the former ‘British Empire’ resolved to lay siege to the Rhodesians by economically starving them into submission through a United Nations Resolution of Sanctions passed in 1966. By this 1966 UN Resolution, NO ONE in the world could sell military hardware or supplies to them or trade with them. At least officially. Well, that backfired too.

The Rhodesian economy grew by leaps and bounds over the next decade after Sanctions. One reason was that there were no International Bankers sucking the lifeblood out of the country. Another issue was, that outside the Soviet Union, officially the West’s arch enemy, only Rhodesia had the defense critical mineral Chromium ore used primarily to harden steel used in such items as cannon barrels and jet engine turbine blades.

The Soviets weren’t going to sell Chrome Ore to the West, so that left only under-the-counter purchases from Rhodesia through shady operators in the back alleys Johannesburg, Tel Aviv and Europe. The whites knew that the blacks would eventually be given majority rule and an inevitability that they would control Rhodesia.

So, the whites of Rhodesia began a ten-year transition period of preparing them to run the country responsibly. The Communists seized on this as a delaying tactic and hope of any peaceful transition ended, as the Communists derailed any attempt at a transition period and the violence began in 1966. Previous to that, most activity had been car bomb explosions which, by the way, I predict America will soon experience.

From 1965 to 1980 the guerilla war

1965-From 1965 to 1980 a terrible mind-boggling guerilla war consumed the country after Rhodesia’s declaration to the world that they were now independent of British rule. Again, sanctions, both economic and military left it with few friends in the world… South Africa and the callous friendship of Israel and the shadowy black marketers.

Russia and Czechoslovakia supported the Communists of the Matabele Tribe on the North of Rhodesia with terrorist bases and training camps, based in Zambia… and China and North Korea supported the Communists of the largest Tribe, the Mashona Tribe in the East of Rhodesia, with terrorist bases and training camps, based in Mozambique.

It was the only Communist insurgency that got so out of control and barbaric to their own Tribal people, that the Communists in Mozambique, on the instructions of their Commanding General, Josiah Tongogara, formed the 85-man Kaguvi Terrorist Elimination Unit to go into Rhodesia, not to fight us, but to find their own Terrorists and execute them. The General’s statement was… “If we have to be this barbaric to our own Tribal people, then I’d rather lose this war.”

The Communists lost the Military War against the Rhodesians

General Josiah Tongogara had some ethics… that statement is extremely thin though, for an ideologically mis-directed man who killed black and white African women and children indiscriminately. Whatever morality and ethics he had were way more than mugabe though and Josiah Tongogara was assassinated as mugabe began to see him as a rival. Notice, I capitalize Tongogara’s Christian and Surname out of some respect like I do Thomas Sankara. Look Sankara up. Find “Blood, the Ink of My Autopsy,” written by a surviving officer of the Kaguvi Unit while it’s still on the internet. It’s full of much “Comrade Bullshytte” but an admission of their responsibility for the atrocities to black Africans.

Transitional Independence of Zimbabwe Rhodesia

1980-The country was on the road to transitional Independence. Pro-Western Methodist Bishop Abel Muzorewa was elected by the blacks and whites in the first election and only honest election held in Rhodesia, since blacks were allowed to vote. The transition began, as Rhodesia was renamed Zimbabwe-Rhodesia in the interim.

The Communists had lost the war to the Rhodesian security forces. They had been defeated. Read the study and analysis by the United States Special Operations Command (SOCOM) published in the March 2000 Marine Corps Gazette. Communists and Leftists are shameless advocates of the “Big Lie.”

The new Zimbabwe Army Commander and former guerilla leader, general rex P.O.S. (you can guess what his middle initials represent) nhongo openly admitted, defeat was at the Communist’s door and mugabe was begging the Americans and British to force a ceasefire. ZANU’s military arm, the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army, would have been hard pressed to make it through the 1980 dry season because of Rhodesian Fire Force operations and cross-border incursions. Fittingly, nhongo died in a fire of a farm house he’d seized the day before with his “war veterans” from an elderly white farm couple that were murdered in the process.

Laughingly, the British and Americans assisted the Communists in conquering Rhodesia by political means. As general P.O.S. nhongo said (after mugabe ordered the assassination of General Josiah Tongogara), “The Rhodesians had killed my junior officers and cadres faster than they could be replaced… we could not have survived another six months through the next dry season.”

In forcing this change to the Communists, the Americans and British did not create Majority Rule in Rhodesia, quite the opposite. They put Individual Rights and freedoms of both black and white Africans of Zimbabwe in a deep, dark hole and covered them with dirt, never to be seen again. They put the Communists in power by removing the duly elected Pro-Western black African Leader who could have created the showcase of racial harmony and economic power in Africa, with Zimbabwe. As a ‘Foreign Legion’ Member of Rhodesia’s Rapid Response Airborne Anti-Terrorist Unit Fire Force… and later attached to SAS (Special Air Service) on “Externals” …raids into surrounding countries harboring Communist Terrorist Camps from 1977 to 1979, I saw it firsthand.

mugabe won the second election by corruption and intimidation by having all terrorists roam the Rhodesian countryside sticking their gun barrels up Tribal blacks’ noses warning them that if mugabe doesn’t win, they will be back and kill them all. By this illegal coercion… as unknown and as unpopular as mugabe was amongst those who knew him, he won the election.

All the foregoing being said, the commonality of HyperInflation has the same factors… a government spending beyond its means… and then endless printing or creation of currency to pay for that spending. Wow! Sounds like America!

The Do-It-Yourself Backyard Concrete Yacht

If you fly into Harare, Zimbabwe Africa to this day, on approach you will see a curious sight. Look hard and you’ll see behind the houses of most former well to do whites and blacks’ houses, partially hidden amongst the huge growths of weeds and trees that have grown up around them… concrete shells of yachts in virtually every stage of construction. Building a yacht was one method by which money was sent or taken out of Rhodesia and later Zimbabwe. The process went like this…

The “yacht builder,” who were mostly well to do blacks and whites who had their homes “free and clear,” would borrow every dollar they could on their house from the “Building Societies,” which were large home mortgage lending holding companies. They would buy all necessary materials in Rhodesia-Zimbabwe they could as their dollars went further there. The Rhodesians had concocted a special mix of concrete, that was not porous, could be sprayed over reinforcing mesh and or reinforcing rod and when troweled smooth and painted, made an extremely hard, flexible and durable hull.

About two inches thick, this concrete formed the hull of the yacht. It was extremely strong and resilient. It made one of the finest ocean-going yacht hulls… as far as concrete hulled boats go. I watched a demonstration once of a guy who took a sledge hammer and hit the concrete hull pretty hard. It vibrated making an odd sounding echo and the blow only slightly chipped the exterior, which he said could be easily filled in and sanded smooth.

When the deck, from locally milled expensive hardwood lumber was completed, a diesel engine, purchased locally, was installed. Then the yacht building homeowner got clearance from the Reserve Bank to pay for and import the best in yacht fittings in South Africa. The South Africans had manufactured yacht masts, sails and hardware for decades in Durban, Port Elizabeth and Cape Town. Some of the finest yacht fittings in the world.

The yacht was then completed, weighed tons and was loaded on a huge 30 axle trailer pulled by a powerful semi-tractor and hauled to Durban, South Africa for its maiden voyage. A bit unusual were all the personal possessions of the yacht owners loaded in the yacht. Customs Officials, initially thought little of it and they were waived through border crossings by authorities.

This yacht building in Rhodesia had been going on for decades and yachts had been built and transported to South Africa for years for leisure ocean sailing Rhodesians. Rhodesians docked them in Durban and took holidays sailing the seas. But now it was different. After a “Christening” and launching the yacht… the owner, having said his farewell to all back home… hired a crew to sail the yacht to Australia, New Zealand, Indonesia or points there abouts.

There he would sell this “top of the line yacht” for $400,000 and buy a home and or business or sheep ranch. They got enough of their money out of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe this way to carry on living a decent life. My Wife’s Uncle left Rhodesia and landed in California with a total of $1,000 USD. The total amount you could go on vacation or emigrate with from Rhodesia. You wouldn’t believe how financially terrible his life was… until he got on his feet… and like all enterprising and hardworking Rhodesians has become a multi-millionaire as an electrical contractor.

The house the “yacht builder” had mortgaged to the hilt was rented out to keep the appearance of it not being abandoned. The rent made the new mortgage payment and if the renter moved out and rent payments were not made… so the mortgage was not paid and sooner or later the house went into foreclosure. The owners didn’t care… they were living happily on another continent away from the war and the obvious economic collapse that was coming.

Since all Rhodesian Men from 18 to 60, no matter how wealthy or connected, PERIOD, had to do a minimum of 6 weeks military service, this especially appealed to them, because most of their duty posting stations for that six weeks were suicide. Usually overwhelmed by Terrorists and killed in the remote postings. I met a drop-dead gorgeous woman before I met my Wife, whose husband had been killed six months earlier on one of these suicide postings. I simply sat and talked to her as she was still deeply grieving. Sad.

Two that flew the coop… and took the coop with them

I was having breakfast with a few of my remaining dollars at a restaurant in Messina, South Africa one morning in, previous to my second attempt going into Rhodesia to get into the Commandos. As I was eating, one of the biggest yachts I’d ever seen lumbered in and parked across the road. It was on a trailer with about 30 sets of wheels towed by an enormous semi-tractor. Huge.

It was headed south on the only blacktopped road of this sparsely populated area of the extreme northern part of South Africa. Messina was about 18 miles from the Rhodesian border crossing of Beitbridge, which was on the main road to Salisbury, Rhodesia… now Harare, Zimbabwe. The two guys who got out of the tractor cab came into the restaurant and sat at the table next to mine. British, I thought hearing them talk, but really Rhodesians they explained later, as I hadn’t learned the different “English” accents.

Hearing me speak to the waiter and recognizing my American accent, they started asking me a few questions out of curiosity… like where I was going. I told them I was headed north to Beitbridge, Rhodesia, which they had just come from, obviously by way of the only road. I asked them where they were going with such a big yacht, to which they answered “The other way” with a laugh. They then told me to Durban and from there to Australia. They were going to buy an Australian sheep ranch. They asked me… “What are you doing in this part of the world?” I said “I’m going to Rhodesia to join the Security Forces.” They looked at each other with amazement and in disbelief of what I’d just said.

A few years later I knew fully what they were doing. I distinctly remember the look on both their faces. A sense of tremendous guilt and remorse literarily hung on their faces, as they wished me well, shook my hand, walked back to their truck and left. I put two and two together about these guys later when the concrete yacht building was brought to my attention. They were fleeing Rhodesia and they felt guilty for not staying to fight for their homeland. The cheapskates could have had at least paid for my breakfast.

#2 What Price Controls did…

• What Price Controls did to the Rhodesian Economy…
• The “Most Modern of Modern”
• The South African economy was flourishing
• The clock had stopped some 20 years earlier
• The Pool at Grand Reef
• What happens when you piss off the South African Afrikaner
• The “Charming” English
• My excellent black African Gourmet Cook… and Late Friend
• “Jock, you hungry?”

When inflation gets bad enough it begins to run its own course like a headless monster, until the currency has been destroyed. When inflation began to get out of control in Rhodesia-Zimbabwe, Comrade mugabe declared in Communist Economic Cosmic Nonsense that “inflation is illegal” and threatened it and all involved with arrest! But when he did this, inflation was past the point of human control. Declaring inflation illegal? Kind of like outlawing gravity and threatening to arrest anyone involved with it.

Price controls sound good to anyone who cannot buy enough to eat because prices have gone up so much on food. But Price Controls work in reality just the opposite and is typical Communist Cosmic Nonsense Economics. The same mugabe who attempted to turn Zimbabwe’s skies green. Really!?

Interesting… that’s similar to making a decree “outlawing gravity.” And much like gravity, Price Controls caused the shelves to be bare in two weeks… like everything floated away unhindered by gravity. Soon all international exchange of the Zimbabwe Dollar was halted. The Zimbabwe currency had less value to the international financial system than the paper money of a Monopoly Game.

The government imposed draconian currency restrictions and nothing of value could be taken out of the country… excepting by the leadership. African countries do not have any type of Social Security system. That’s why black Africans have multiple wives and 20 children each. Hoping 10 survive to the parent’s old age, those children taking care of their parents. They are the parent’s social security system.

But these countries also have no unemployment security payments. Lose your job, and you have to live on savings… no savings… equals starvation. Fuel was rationed and usually unavailable. Along with the people, the entire country slowly economically starved and turned into a financial skeleton of what it had been.

The “Most Modern of Modern”

That misbehaving “Child” of the English Commonwealth, Rhodesia, had allowed the ambitious and intelligent from Britain to have an entirely new start, escaping from the rigid English system of “Class” that rarely allowed the ambitious and hardworking any change in status. In Rhodesia, a white or black African (limited opportunities for blacks but still there) could become whatever he or she wanted and however rich that their intelligence, ambition and hard work would make them. Immigrants, despite the war, flocked to the country from Europe, Communist countries and from around the world.

It was probably the most progressive and independent society of The British Commonwealth, similar to what the English Colonists in America achieved centuries earlier. Again, there were over 5 times as many black African millionaires than white. Every wealthy black African Rhodesian sent their children to the same Prep Schools as the white Rhodesians did. Very common as the racial barriers were falling as the Rhodesians had years ago started integration.

Virtually everything was computerized in South Africa… banks, restaurants, hotels, bars. This was 1978… a few years before America started to computerize and South Africa was way ahead of the rest of the world. Rhodesia had seen few computers at that time. The South Africans produced their own French designed Mirage Fighters and C123 transports under license and their own armament systems. They manufactured or imported and installed more computer systems than anyone in the world at the advent of computers.

I attended the South African 1^st Parachute Battalion Training School at Bloemfontein, South Africa, in their northern province of The Orange Free State. The first time I walked out the front gate of this school I froze in astonishment. Across the highway going lazily towards that little burg, just one armored unit had in excess of two square miles of modern British Centurion tanks and armored vehicles belly to butt under metal steel covered roofs.

I’d never seen so many armored tanks in one location as my gaze followed the slightly rolling terrain of row after row of metal roofs glinting in the sunlight. They had all the tanks in the world there… and also had the men to operate them.

The South African economy was flourishing also

Back at the turn of the century, the Afrikaners fought the British Empire’s best troops to a standstill in two wars and would probably have beaten them, if the German Emperor hadn’t forced the conflict to stop by threatening to attack England if they didn’t back off their German cousins, the Afrikaners. Afrikaners are commonly referred to as ‘Boers’ (Farmers) and are South African white Dutch/German settlers. They had controlled South Africa the previous centuries and set foot on South African soil at Cape Town about when “Americans” set foot at Plymouth Rock in the early 1600’s.

The Voortrekkers in the 1600s, like Americans moving west by wagon train in covered wagons in the 1800s, generally respected the Xhosa Tribes of the Khoisan black Africans, the only blacks in South Africa at the time other than the Bantu Tribes further north. The warlike Zulus had wandered north into present day Zambia at the time, where they left a path of death and desolation in their wake, stripping the land of every living thing like locusts as they slowly migrated North.

With the exception of the greedy and gluttonous meddling of the British Elites, who wanted the minerals, most Afrikaners farmed and lived quiet lives for centuries and generally got along with the Xhosa and even the Bantus but even those black Africans were regulated and treated much like American Indians. I wager to say that the black Africans initially were treated way better than how we shat on the American Indian. But you know us English and Europeans… we’re always out to make “Good little Englishmen” out of everyone else in the world… even if we have to bomb them into submission or treat them like shytte until their skin color changes. An impossibility.

The clock had stopped some 20 years earlier

As I and the other international volunteers stepped off the airplane, it was like the clock had stopped 20 years earlier. Former American Marines, Navy Underwater Demolitions Team members (Navy SEALS) and American Army Special Forces… SAS troopers and Royal Marines from the Commonwealth… ex-French and Spanish Legionnaires, a Cherokee Indian from Oklahoma, and any wanderer and adventurer who could endure to survive the intense, almost barbaric, training. International volunteers from 53 countries.

Men with restless souls. Many of them angry Vietnam veterans looking to get another lick in at the communists after their perception of losing in Vietnam… which they also won but which has been twisted by the Communists and Leftists. Men who made the most deadly and dangerous of soldiers… men who put little value on their own lives and most could care less if they lived or died.

We were fearless… so the Rhodesians put many of us in the Rhodesian Light Infantry Units of 1 Commando, 2 Commando, 3 Commando, Support Commando. Our Commandos and the black Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR) were Fire Force units and parachute trained. Each unit’s primary mission was “call outs” for the Fire Force Rapid Anti-Terrorist Unit. We mostly sat in Fire Force bases waiting for Communist Terrorists to be spotted by military and police units sitting on top of every strategic hill in Northern and Eastern Rhodesia.

When Terrorists were spotted, we went out with a gunship helicopter and 3 to 4 troop carrying choppers with 12 to 16 of us in the “Stop Group.” Accompanying us, when terrorists had absolutely been spotted was a World War II C-47 Dakota transport with 16 of us in the “Eagle Group.” See the article in “An American in Africa” on my Substack about Fire Force operation methods from the study posted in the Marine Corps Gazette March-1999.

It seemed like the late 1950s’ I remember from America. Rhodesia had been isolated from the rest of the world by United Nations decree now for 11 years. “Progress,” because of Sanctions, had eluded the country. That just left a society of people not distracted by and preoccupied by the technological illusion of progress. The simplicity of life then in Rhodesia was refreshing… combined with the magnetism of Africa… it seemed almost timeless.

The Pool at Grand Reef

In the midst of that environment, seemingly simple issues could flare up into deadly situations from that state of mind. Like the beautiful sunny day when an armed standoff between about 30 of us International Volunteers and a Brit and South Africans from our Commando occurred over the black soldiers of the Rhodesian African Rifles (RAR) swimming in our Fire Force base pool at Grand Reef, by the city of Umtali on the Eastern border.

Some of the Rhodesians and us international volunteers had invited them to swim. Yours truly was the first to be approached by a black RAR trooper and I said “Sure, you guys come over and swim.” We had built the pool. Got the engineers to dig a huge hole and found a rubberized tarp to line it with. Then we filled sandbags and laid them around the edge over the tarp. So, these black as the Ace of Spades soldiers were swimming. We wouldn’t have let just any black African swim, because the average black African has terrible body hygiene and the pool would have been fouled in no time.

But the black African soldiers of the Rhodesian African Rifles had better hygiene than the average African and were probably cleaner than some of the backwoods white boneheads in my Commando. Anyway, the die was cast. When a few of the others of our commando, a Brit and some South Africans, walked up to the pool and saw these black African RAR members swimming, they went berserk and started to shout… “Get your kaffir black asses out of the pool!” to the RAR soldiers. Kaffir is an Indian Muslim word for ‘non-believer’ commonly used to describe black Africans.

The frightened and confused black RAR soldiers swam to the edge of the pool to get out. Black Africans turn a blackish gray color when deeply frightened and these three were gray. One of our group yelled to the South Africans “We invited them to swim… fuck off!” Us foreigners, the Rhodesians and a South African who didn’t share his comrade’s sentiments, ran to the edge of the pool and stopped the black RAR soldiers from getting out, pointing our fingers at these three RAR soldiers threateningly and yelling to them to… “Fucking get back in the pool!”

Then the lone machine gunner amongst the protesting South Africans, a gunner, did the unthinkable. He chambered a round into his MAG machinegun. Immediately weapons clattered as all of us chambered rounds into our FN rifles, pistols and machineguns. Weapons and tensions mounted as assault rifles, machine guns and pistols were nervously fingered and began to be brought to bear on both sides, over our insistence that the black soldiers be allowed to swim in our pool.

Then just as suddenly as it started, the ice broke and it ended. The South Africans angrily stormed off as our side prevailed. They never forgot that though… foreigners interfering with their hallowed centuries old way of life. Threats from them of getting shot in the back by them in a fire force contact abounded.

That was a real danger because we suspected it had happened before over petty rivalries. Next to impossible to prove because of the confusion and fire coming from all directions during a fire fight. But as time muted their anger, it never happened. The black RAR soldiers swam in that pool every day after.

I know that we would well have killed each other that day over those black soldiers being allowed in our pool, as much as dying for any reason could be more important. The RAR troopers were our fighting comrades, as braver than most white men fighting the Communists. Whatever we were fighting for… it was not based on skin color or the shape of eyes. Our commanders heard of this confrontation and said any further problems and the pool would be filled in.

Each of the Foreigners was just spoiling for a fight. We didn’t have a lot of concern with whom or what over. Decades later, as I reflect on that confrontation, that was only part of it. But in reality, the time each of us spent in that African War became… not a battle to survive each fire fight or to prevail against the enemy… it was a struggle in each of us with our souls.

This is the Africa that I stepped into in back then. That was before my Commando training, the first time I entered Rhodesia, I promptly got kicked out the next day after being thrown in Immigration Jail that night. You haven’t been in Jail until you’ve been in Rhodesian Immigration Jail. The explanation of that statement is in “An American in Africa” on my Substack

What happens when you piss off the South African Afrikaner

The Afrikaners are very religious and devout. Such is especially the Orange Free State area and people. It’s as if they roll up the concrete sidewalks at 9 PM and it’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop. Sundays too… nothing goes on unless it’s religious based. Guys attending American Parachute Training at Fort Benning, Georgia could take a lesson from these Afrikaners who didn’t know the meaning of quit. I saw this from all of them at their Parachute School. They just wouldn’t give up. A young guy who dragged himself to the finish line in a run when he’d broken his ankle. They are, bar none, the toughest, most hardnosed, relentless and determined people I’ve ever met. It is a shame how the world went about destroying this culture and their country along with it.

I have to say, despite having amoebic dysentery that I picked up in Mozambique prior to Parachute training, I was pretty cocky that I’d managed to get through the Rhodesian’s hell week you were required to pass before being flown to South Africa for jump school. I intended to die rather than not get through this parachute course. I always wanted to be a paratrooper. Even when I was sitting on top of the M40 Thermonuclear warhead arming and disarming it… I dreamed about jumping out of airplanes.

Despite being dehydrated and deathly sick with dysentery the first week, which a Rhodesian Doctor going through the course with me treated with his unconventional “bread plug” cure method, of which I will spare you the ghastly details, I struggled to get through this training even after my dysentery “cure.” I had to carry a 20-kilo concrete block around from day two to the end. Everywhere. When I walked, ran or slept… that “wrapped in a tarp and tied with a parachute static line and handy dandy carry handle,” was persistently with me.

One thing I learned. You do not want to mess with the Afrikaners… if you do, they will make your day a bad day. Don’t get me wrong… the Brits have some of the toughest of tough soldiers whom I served with and admire endlessly. But I can’t stand the Royals or political and social hierarchy of England. Pukes.

The English hierarchy will throw their own soldiers under the bus before “High Tea” is served in the afternoon. The English Aristocrats have no soul and are hollow people callously preying on those beneath their station like overly gorged and obese wolfs. So, when the Afrikaners and British went at it around the Turn of the Century, it was one hellacious fight.

My group of 60 from Rhodesia attending the South African 1^st Parachute Battalion School, learned a lesson the first meal we ate at their massive chow hall. We’d just been flown in that Sunday from Rhodesia in time for the evening meal. One thousand some South African paratroopers were served their individual plates of food by junior South African paratroopers in training, as we waited to be served.

The South African officers and NCOs ate on an elevated dining area the length of this enormous dining hall, with a podium and microphone speaker system at the center of their platform that could address the entire group. Over one-thousand of the 1^st Parachute Battalion ate at one time.

Understand, most of the men with my group were foreigners who had been on the African continent for years. They’d been in this Tribal conflict or that war or whatever they could do… that involved hand grenades, Claymore mines, pistols, assault rifles, explosives and butt puckering danger… that paid well. A bodyguard for Uganda’s dictator Idi Amin here, mercenaries formerly of the British Royal Marine Commandos fighting for Nigeria against mercenaries formerly of the British Royal Marine Commandos fighting for Biafra in a war between the two countries.

One of these guys was a queer as a three-dollar bill, former British Color Sergeant who’d been in the employ of and in charge of the Christian Phalangist mortar section responsible for killing some six thousand helpless Muslim men, women and children in Lebanon refugee camps. Evil bastard. Dislikeable, regardless of his sexuality. Looking into his eyes, you could imagine he’d cut his own mother’s throat. Dead and empty eyes.

Many in our group were from that cut of the cloth, sitting both sides of a long table, the first meal we ate in the South African 1^st Battalion Parachute chow hall that Sunday afternoon. Irreverent, foul mouthed, some of questionable character, experienced and hardened soldiers… of 53 different nationalities from around the world, but all required to go through the standardization of Parachute Training the Rhodesians required. However, to a man they hated Communists.

I overheard a comment one night in the barracks made by one of these Brit guys to another Brit of the losing side, “We kicked your arses on that one!” just as if it was a comment about the outcome of a harmless rugby game. No hard feelings now, but trying with every bodily fiber to kill each other during that war. One guy had been in 8 different wars in Africa. Tough cookies, all of them.

All went well in the chow hall as we impatiently waited to be served. We hadn’t eaten since early that morning. At least, all went well until a junior South African Lieutenant took to the podium to speak. None of us spoke the German sounding language of Afrikaans, so we had no idea what he was saying. While this Lieutenant was speaking, which reminded me of a dog growling and barking, all others in this hall had bowed their heads. The Lieutenant was saying a prayer while my group laughed, joked and carried noisily on.

Suddenly, the commanding officer on the elevated platform walked to the podium, interrupted the Lieutenant, barked a command in Afrikaans and over 1000 angry looking South African Paratroopers moved to surround our table. They started silently moving in and slowly pushing us against our table. We couldn’t get out of our chairs and they were crushing us. I could barely breath.

They then stopped on an NCO’s command and for one long minute stood and stared at us silently. It was a thousand focused laser like stares that I’ll never forget. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. You could have cut the air with a knife… it was so thick. The paratroopers at one end of the table parted ranks for their commanding officer who moved through them to the end of our table.

He said in precise, perfectly British accented English… “Gentlemen… when we say our prayers you may pray with us. However, if you don’t pray, do not make a sound! Is that understood?” That was the last time anyone made a peep or said a word while eating in their chow hall for the next six weeks. That terrified even the most fearless of us and some of our group, unknown to what was being said, prayed. Scary.

The “Charming” English

I’m not out to piss off the British. At least not the Common British person… “The Commoner” whom I respect. It’s the British hierarchy and aristocracy I loathe. Like those same people who are now controlling America and who pull good and decent Americans around by the nose and use them to fight their wars, so they can make trillions. Forever wars.

This Clique treat the good and decent common person like cattle going up a ramp into the meat processing factory. The same evil hierarchy of Britain, or have controlled in during its ‘empire days,’ now controls America. I call these people a “Clique” because they control the Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos promoting lies and deceptions driven by their dark agenda. That hierarchy fed on the British in the past until there was nothing left to feed on as is Britain today. If I sound like someone who wants to see the Guillotine brought out again, like the French did in 1789… I’ll just say, the French weren’t all wrong.

Read about what the British did to South African Boer (farmer)… the elderly, men, women, children and babies. You’ll never again look at the English as the quaint, innocent, genteel “Mister Chips” type with that charming accent and who have big black taxi cabs, double decker buses, ‘Bobbies’, red telephone booths and make such charming statements as… “By Jove, let’s have a spot of Fish & Chips… Jolley good show, olde chap! …Well done! …Long live the King” …and the broad-brush-stroke of whatever this means… “And all that rot.”

Their English ancestors… not the common Englishman, but the ruling class… by their own slang terms have been “Right bloody tossers!” …naughty buggers and twits doing evil things in the name of “The Queen Mum!” and marching on to the mindless shouts and verses of “Rule Britannia!” Americans, Japanese, Dutch, Germans etal, fought alongside them subduing the Chinese over the Opium Trade.

The aristocracy behind the Opium Trades should have their names put on the front page of every world’s newspaper. Evil beings. They made TRILLIONS off of creating the well-oiled narcotic system of destruction, misery and suffering for millions of Chinese through the invention and careful management of the opium dens in China. “By Jove!” they said when the Chinese tried to end this abomination… “We’ll put the Chinaman in their place!”

They massacred the Chinese in hideous ways and the rest of the West helped subdue them in the Boxer Rebellions. The British Aristocracy selected China for their opium trade, after failing to create functional opium dens in England and Scotland, in an attempt to get the English Common man, woman and child hooked on that shytte.

During the Boer War days, the Afrikaner’s elderly, women, children and babies had been rounded up and starved to death in the first “Concentration Camps.’ The “Concentration Camp” was a British creation in Africa eight decades earlier. The German Nazis didn’t create the Concentration Camp, the British did and the British killed more people than the Nazis killed in them. Read about it.

My excellent black African Gourmet Cook

Neither me or the others of my Commando could really complain about Commando food. Still, I yearned for lamb chops or whatever fish we could get when I got out of the bush. Something different. A break from that wonderful monotony that my soon to be black Combat Partner Frank was in charge of, with his 30 some black African cooks… Steak and eggs or some variation of it.

That was before Frank, a highly decorated Mashona BSAP Policeman, who’d had most of his stomach shot out and was given this treasured and cushy job by the Rhodesians, was handed an FN rifle and sent out in the bush from base camp because we were seriously short of men… as many were leaving the country for good. Our two weeks out of two months of leave became permanent for them. I couldn’t blame them.

My late Captain Vernon Prinsloo asked my group who wanted to partner up with Frank. No one wanted to tent with Frank because he was black. My unit being white and mostly foreigners, they were more prejudiced than the white Rhodesians. Frank wasn’t parachute trained, but this duty was on the ground… Observation Post duty.

The white, prideful, stupid stigma of those in my Commando who were all white, had a racial attitude that feeds on itself and is self-perpetuating. I immediately volunteered… reasons being I’d seen Frank shoot and he was a better marksman than most in my Commando… but the real motivation was food.

Like the saying from the movie “The Curious Case of Benjamin Button,” the short story by F. Scott Fitzgerald woven into a masterful screenplay and brought to life by two brilliant writers, Eric Roth and Robin Swicord… “Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we miss.” Maybe one day one of my screenplays will get there… but never as touching as theirs.

This was an opportunity I didn’t miss. I knew Frank would be carrying the best cuts of salted meat, because he got to them before the officers did, and he’d bring along other real food… like bread. Not the same old ration packs we normally carried, which were not really that bad but Frank’s cooking was far better. My name “Jack” always sounded like “Jock” when Frank said it, Mashona accent and all. Frank was married to both a Mashona woman of his Tribe and a Matabele woman of his rival Tribe. I can’t remember how many kids he told me he had. But I was astounded.

Curious of the rivalry between the Matabele and Mashona, I asked Frank about this… he told me he got along well with his wives and all their Family from both Tribes. Odd.

I would have liked to have sponsored him to the United States, like I later made offers to many in my Commando still in the country, through a U.S. Defense Department contact I had for a special Anti-Terrorist program they were considering formulating, just to get him and his Family out of there when the Communists took over.

Sadly, Frank died from infection of having both legs crushed while riding shotgun in a military Land Rover that tipped over and killed the white driver just before the cease fire. But fresh cooked food, when we could use a gas stove or burn wood, was waaaaaaaaay better than eating out of a box. For a black African in white governed Rhodesia, Frank was respectful, but he took no shytte from anyone. I made a deal with Frank that I’d put the bivy tent up, clean our utensils and sort out our area, if he’d cook.

The guy was a gourmet cook. I don’t know where the hell he learned but it was always a mini two or three course meal when we could use open flame or simply his wonderful concoction of fresh bread and some mystery herb from the bush that he crushed up and mixed with sardines when we couldn’t cook with open flame. I don’t think any of it was a’human fleesh (Joke). I smile as I remember Frank and I became quite fond of him. We always ate, to the pissed off looks directed at us from the others in our reconnaissance group, who were eating rations from a box.

“Jock, you hungry?”

He made sandwiches and such in between. “Jock, you hungry?” he would ask. I always was when, bored to death, we lay on a flat rock some 1000 foot above a valley scouring the area for Terrorist movement during our “down time” from fuel shortages. The Terrorists many times moved with funerals or weddings but we knew how to detect them. Then we’d call in the police or Fire Force to sort them out. It was generally as boring as sitting in a chair and watching paint dry on a wall.

Frank once freaked me out while on one of these huge flat rocks, laying prone and searching with binoculars. He suddenly sprung to his feet and jerked me by my pistol belt off the rock. Looking back, where he pointed, was a pretty little blue snake about a foot-long that had been crawling towards my jumpsuit leg on the left side of us. Grayish-black as most Central Africans were when frightened, Frank turned a rich shade of gray from a millennium of African fear of that snake.

He probably saved my life as he warned me, after he jerked me off that rock… “Bad… one bite… Jock dead.” One of the deadliest snakes in Africa and unknown to me it was about a foot from moving up my jumpsuit pant leg. We moved to another rock. People wonder why the military “blouse” their pant legs at the top of their boots or wear leggings.

Snakes, like most creatures in Africa, will crawl up your pant leg because it appears to be a place they can hide. One bite, game over. I was beginning to feel like the main character in a movie I’d watch much later in my life… “Forest Gump,” the book by that master of wordsmithing, Winston Groom. I’d like to think that maybe I was marginally more intelligent than Forest.

But God and the Fates That Are, someone always seemed to be around to pull me out of the shytte at the last moment and allowed me to avoid the “Grim Reaper.” And like Forest, I also attended a “Black Panther Party Meeting,” with a black Friend of mine… being the only white man amongst some 50 black members armed to the teeth, but who were very respect full to me. That was before they went full Marxist.

Frank was worried what would happen to him and his Family if the Communists prevailed. A good man. Frank was hardnosed but he grew on me and we came to be friends. Even after he threw his rifle in his truck and went back to supervising the cook crew, he’d pull me out of the chow line to the blind side of the truck to give me one of the best cuts of meat… and eggs. Rest in peace My Friend.

#3 Rhodesians… hoarding and profit gouging

• Rhodesians… hoarding and profit gouging
• A Communist Bishop and “Woke” World Council of Churches
• The Communist Doctrine of the oppressed people rising up and supporting them didn’t work in Rhodesia
• A Piss-Up in the Tribal Trust Lands
• Most Terrorists were “Slave Soldiers”
• The black Rhodesian Soldiers and Police hated the Communists
• Patrick and the “Pit of the Dead”

As far as greed and gouging goes, my observation was that the whites in Zimbabwe, who were the backbone of agricultural production and still owned most of the manufacturing and food processing factories that hadn’t been confiscated from them, knew that the increasing inflation was harmful to everyone and that any gouging they did would just make it worse.

They have that attitude of Commoner British thought, which is the ancestry of most of the whites there, which was “to pull together” to get through it. They wanted the new Government to survive because their own survival and trillions of dollars of their lifetime investment couldn’t just be packed up and shipped out of the country. This had been their home, many born there and Families living there for generations, and they didn’t want to leave. Unknown to them at the time was the disaster that was looming. Gouging was rare from what I know.

The British, which was most of the white New Zimbabweans, have a good orderly communal streak in them and their thought was “Keep a stiff upper lip… and by Jove… carry on.” They tend to work towards more cooperation than greed. That however, also makes the British better subjects than citizens. Unlike Americans, who rebel against authority and some, a small number of which, tend to take advantage of others if the opportunity is there.

But all the New Zimbabweans and British were doing in trying to save themselves, their worth and the country by telling each other “We’re all in this together!” was for naught. They were simply feeding an insatiable, money hungry monster lurking in the corner of anyplace there was money to steal. The black and white New Zimbabwe Africans were making the black leadership the wealthiest people in the world.

A Communist Bishop and “Woke” World Council of Churches

I do not use the world Communist lightly in describing a person. However, the World Council of Churches (WCC) had at least one member who openly admitted he was Communist during the late 1970s. Christian and Communist!? …go figure! He was a WCC Bishop from Jamaica. He must not have been alone in his thinking as the WWC was complicit in this Communist takeover of Rhodesia and supported Communist Rebels in South West Africa. They have much blood on their hands.

The white and black African Bible Thumpers and “Fire and Brimstone” preachers pounding of the Bible at the pulpit and damning everyone who even thought of crossing the “color barrier” for conjugal relations or marriage are much the cause for Rhodesian and South Africa’s demise. I can guarantee that many a one had patronized mixed race brothels in between their “Damnation Sermons.” Much of this attitude comes from societal and personal distaste and rigid Biblical misdirection. This alone, set much of the backdrop and stage for this conflict later in the 20^th Century.

Well I know I’m not a very good Christian… but I’m workin’ on it. So, don’t be offended by the picture. I think to the Bible, God and Jesus many times for guidance. Jesus did not separate by race when he preached, healed or prayed nor should a government separate by race. However, you MUST discriminate by Capability, Ambition, Intelligence… when it is separate from and unhindered by race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender. That’s what makes a person who they are and should guide society as to a person’s merit by merit, not by race or sexuality. The World Council of Churches also became “Woke” and agents for the Communists under the control of these Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos.

After parachuting in on my last camp raid into Zambia, a pile of bagged Sudza the size of a house was found. One of my mates yelled for me to come look at it and close up was the printed label on the 100 kilo bags that read “Donated by The World Council of Churches” next line… “Methodist Synod.” “60 Minutes” aired a one hour expose of this in 1980.

A Christian organization giving $80,000 in one year to Communist Terrorists to buy explosives used to kill innocent people… AND millions of dollars in food aid to these psychopaths! My, my, my! That wasn’t the people helping the poor in Africa that I was taught about in Sunday School.

We captured so much ordinance and explosives on that raid, that we began packing what we couldn’t carry out, under the timbers that held this pile off the ground. The engineers then blew it to hell and back. When I helicoptered out it looked like it was snowing in the jungle from white Sudza flakes floating down.

The goal of the defeat of Rhodesia done and Communism in place… Leftist mouthpiece “60 Minutes” continued on to file one honest report on American Churches donations to support Communists… therefore bashing the Christian Religion, another of their woke objectives. That’s why they committed one hour to this expose instead of their usual 20-minute segment. It made people stop supporting churches.

I’m one of them. I haven’t given a dime to my Baptismal Methodist church since and they don’t need it. They were paid $542,000 by the United Nations from American taxpayer money to bring in illegals in 2023. American taxpayer money paid to Leftist groups through the United Nations. These large churches no longer have to pass the offering bowl as they’re all receiving hundreds of thousands of dollars for assisting illegal migration to Europe and America.

I also weened myself of watching “60 Minutes” some 35 years ago which, I am now aware, is full blown Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos, by whatever semantic you wish to describe them and those pulling the levers behind the curtains. They shame the good people who have let these Leftist hijack their churches.

The Communist Doctrine of the oppressed people rising up and supporting them didn’t work in Rhodesia

The Communists infiltrated Rhodesia on foot from Zambia and Mozambique and began killing Tribal Chiefs, wealthy black and white Africans, Missionaries’, poor Tribal black Africans and whole farm Families… men, women and children… concentrating on the white farmers of Rhodesia. They soon found that the common black Africans did not willingly support them. They just wanted to be left alone to mind their cattle, love their wives, tend their crops, raise their children and drink their home brewed 7-day-beer Chibuku.

The Communist Guerrilla Doctrine of turning the “oppressed” common person against the government didn’t work with black African Tribal Culture in Rhodesia. The blacks did not care about the “War of Independence,” “Liberation” and “Chimurenga” as the Communists trademarked it, in an attempt to make the world believe all Rhodesian blacks wanted this guerilla “liberation” war. The Rhodesians gave these “oppressed” blacks free education, medical and dental care… and food during famine times. Elders of black African Tribes had their own taxation systems and most had the newest Mercedes Benz cars.

So, the Communists resorted to brutality and barbarism to get “Food, water and women” while in the country. The brutality of the Communist Terrorists was cleverly evil. Like giving a Grandmother the choice of her and 30 some Family being shot on the spot, or her beating one of her grandson’s to death with a club in front of the village. Her crime… one of her son’s was in the Rhodesian army. They terrorized the rural blacks in Rhodesia by frightening them so much that they would give them anything they asked for in fear of the Terrorists coming back to roast one of the village alive over a bonfire for punishment. This was a colossal mistake by the Communists as you will read about later.

 

The Elim Mission Massacre, also known as the “Vumba Massacre.”

12 missionaries, including four children shot and bayoneted. Pretty courageous “Liberation Fighters.” Killing a 3-year-old baby!? Brave, heh? All these Missionaries’ were killed, women raped, while their 250 students were forced to watch.

 

 

 

 

I was at the Elim Mission the day after the massacre. It was in the Eastern Rhodesian Vumba Mountains. Beautiful area. The pools of blood from the dead were still visible in the killing area, albeit having soaked into the ground where the African ants were busy going at it. My Commando used the mission, which was closed, for building assault training for an upcoming raid on a Terrorist camp. Wish I could have been there when it happened but our training was “Tit for tat.”

 

A Piss-Up in the Tribal Trust Lands

About once a week the Villagers in the Tribal Trust Lands would run the red flag up the village pole announcing that the piss-up drinking of “Chibuku” seven-day beer had started. The first time this new guy, me, saw this red flag through binoculars from a hilltop LOP (Listening Out Post), I whispered and pointed excitedly to my Sergeant… “Look Sarge, Communists!” He laughed and called me a “Dumb Oaf” in Afrikaans… which I couldn’t have argued about at the time. It was a Tribal “piss up.”

Chibuku ferments in a 55-gallon oil drum… that they sometimes cleaned out, or maybe didn’t… leaving the remnants of oil in to ferment with the brew… maybe a dead mouse floating at the top with the grain husks or whatever they put in there. I drank some of this once. You haven’t had an alcohol beverage until you’ve had Chibuku. It is so powerful that those not used of it would pass out from very little of it, as it was almost pure alcohol.

I barely knew my name after less than a half a canteen cup. I had to sweat it out of me walking out of that village to the road where we were picked up. This was of course after the village had discovered us with our binoculars on a nearby hill. The Picanins, young kids, were sent out all directions during the day as the village’s early warning system scouts. Harmless looking. If you were wearing three-day old aftershave, they’d smell you two hundred yards away. If you were white, they’d smell you because you smell different than a black African. If you smoked a cigarette in the bush, every animal and black African for a mile around knew you were there.

If the birds flew out of the trees… or didn’t… they knew something was up. So, what do you do when the Picanin finds you? You give the cute little bugger a bag of sugar. Game’s up! Then you thump the guy who thought he was sneaking a smoke undetected, before you walked off. We were invited by the Elders of the village once, at the Chief’s insistence, to join them as we walked out. Out of respect but more that I and the others wanted a drink after sleeping on that hill top for three straight days, they shared from their barrel with us. This would be only the males of the village including those in their late teens.

The females and children were not allowed to attend these get togethers which sometimes included Mashona members from other area village clans. You could tell by their scowls that the younger males didn’t like us, but the older men were stoic and not afraid of us. They’d sit and chatter in Mashona and laugh quietly in their distinct black African manner. They laughed at how drunk we got. They were probably laughing about our dumb asses for fighting, when the world should be making beer and getting pissed up like them. I often wondered whether some were killed by the Terrorists for sharing their Chibuku with us that day.

Most Terrorists were “Slave Soldiers”

Almost all black African Terrorist soldiers were kidnaped by the Communists from Rhodesian Tribal Trust Lands, taken out of Rhodesia and force trained. Hunted down and killed by their Communist captors when they tried to escape, as one of my black combat partners, Patrick, who had surrendered to us, told me. You’ll read about what he told me he went through later. His “wattle” lumber truck was found idling with the door open after he was taken at gun point from a road on the Mozambique border. His “training” including a whipping with barbed wire that put him in the Terrorist Infirmary for a month with infection and… you’ll read about it later. Bone chilling.

After training, they were sent back into Rhodesia with Communist “wardens” watching them and forced to fight for the Communists or get a bullet in the back of their head by the “warden” from rumor or a snitch or just to make an example of them to the others.

It was unfortunate that most of these “slave soldiers” could not surrender out of fear of being killed by black Rhodesian Army or Police and many were killed in Fire Force Contacts. They were deserting the Communists constantly inside Rhodesia.

They surrendered to police and army units en masse… once 200 of them at the same time after they killed their “wardens.” I was with these “Tame Terrorists,” as we called them, on sweeps in Matabeleland. They hated the Communists. After vetting by the police, they carried their Russian weapons, wore dark denim pants and khaki shirts and hats with day glow patched sew on the top as they fought alongside us. They killed Communists without question… actually, quite enthusiastically.

A core principle of guerilla movements is that the revolutionaries must have support from the population they were intent on “liberating.” That is a guerilla movement’s supply system. Only this time the population didn’t “Yearn to be free… because as far as they could see, they were” and had to be frightened out of their minds with fear to comply with Terrorist’s demands.

Frustrated without their traditional base of supplies from the “oppressed,” the Communists Terrorists began to resort to barbaric torture and killings of Tribal blacks to instill terror in the black Tribal Trust Lands. This ensured absolute compliance of supplies of water, food, shelter and women sexual partners for them.

Only madmen could conceive of what these subhumans did to their own people. Roasting them alive over bonfires and… the rest I will spare you. As you do not want to go to sleep tonight with descriptions of what I saw and know in your thought… and you would not believe the monstrous insanity of what the Terrorists did.

Regardless, we soon found that we could not turn over Terrorists that surrendered to the black Africans soldiers or police, as they would hideously torture them to death. They were out for blood revenge for their parents, wives, siblings, children and grandchildren being tortured and killed in the Tribal Trust Lands.

The black Rhodesian Soldiers and Police hated the Communists

That was one of the Communist Terrorist’s biggest mistakes… to single out and concentrate on killing the black Family members of black Rhodesian soldiers and policemen who were from the Tribal Trust Lands. Since 80% of the Rhodesian army and police were black, this infuriated them and a vicious blood revenge war ensued… pity any Terrorist captured by them. That alone cost the Terrorists the war… which they soon admitted they had lost.

My Commando once parked our convoy next to a police outpost moving somewhere across Rhodesia. We lounged around outside our vehicles eating lunch. We had to move a mile down the road because of the screaming noises of Terrorists being tortured by black policemen in a tent. How many of their victims were forced conscripts to the Communist Terrorists has always bothered me. They didn’t care… the black policemen were out for revenge.

The white Rhodesian police began to take possession of all Terrorists who surrendered and would interrogate (question, not torture) those that surrendered. They could sort out who was who pretty quickly. Those Terrorists who surrendered in numbers had usually killed their wardens. You’ll read about this later.

Patrick and the “Pit of the Dead”

When we moved, we drove by an open garbage pit with 30 some bodies in it. Tortured to death under “interrogation” or simply shot by the black policemen. While we were eating, one black policeman was shooting at a huge black Terrorist whose hands were tied behind his back, kneeling. The black policeman seemed to be seeing how close he could come to this Terrorist’s head. After a half dozen shots from his FN rifle, he eventually hit him in the ear or grazed the side of his head, as the Terrorist winced painfully and defiantly.

The white policemen supervisors eating their lunch at a picnic table nearby yelled 5 or 6 times… “Come on Patrick, that’s enough of that! Bloody stop!” Patrick was clearly out for blood and refused to stop. I sympathize with the white cops… the last thing you want to do in Africa is to get between a blood frenzied Mashona Tribesman and the target of his revenge, like the tent full brutalizing their captives. I didn’t see it but Patrick most likely eventually hit the Terrorist face-on to join his comrades in the pit. From the look on his face and determination, this policeman was getting even and had lost Family to the Terrorists.

#4 The Rhodesian Black Market

• The Rhodesian Black Market
• “How can I be overdrawn? I still have checks in my check book!”
• 7,900,000,000 percent inflation PER MONTH
• Zimbabwe Government decides to “manage” the pensions!
• My African Heroes… Morgan Tsvangirai, Roy Bennett and Thomas Sankara. Look them up.
• The African Continent “Assassination by Lorry” Technique
• The “Ugly Americans” …actually the American Fools

The mugabe government became literally the largest food supplier and grocery store in Africa through this Black Market. What relief supplies the Government could get more money for exporting to other countries, than they could get from the Zimbabwe Black Market, they did… despite the populace starving.

At Independence, Rhodesia’s name was changed Zimbabwe and Independence was the change to Majority Rule. 95% of the country at that time was black, with no voting privileges, with the remaining 5% (again, white, Oriental, Hispanic and Asian Indians, collectively referred to as whites). The black Africans owned 80% of the country as Tribal Trust Lands, which whites were prohibited from entry without a permit, but only blacks who owned private land could vote. The blacks of Rhodesia were essentially second-class citizens in regards to running the country.

Like most of you reading this, my Father-In-Law’s fellow Rhodesian/Zimbabwe countrymen thought he was being overly “dramatic,” “out there” and a “conspiracy theorist” regarding what he preached was coming decades before it surfaced… as Stan and I preach here. Most of my Father-In-Law’s countrymen were soon penniless and or dead. An early death comes to most well-to-do people from the “loss of will to live, from crushing mental despair” of suddenly having to live without even a penny, when you’re too old to work, earn or do anything about it.

The wheelbarrows used to transport enough money just to buy a loaf of bread were worth more than the bales of money they carried, as in the main article photo, bound with strings. I have this theory that the prettier and more colorful the currency of a country becomes… the more worthless it will be in the near future.

This is what I’ve seen in all foreign countries as the currency becomes increasingly worthless… and was so in Zimbabwe… the paper currency becomes more colorful. Actually pretty.

People began to wallpaper their houses with the dollars and burn them for warmth. Curious, the American denomination currency is getting much more colorful. For the first time in over a century, the United States Treasury is coloring in the digits that denominate our currency… pretty “gold looking” 1s and 0s on the hundred-dollar bill. No longer fit to be called the “Greenback” now with “gold” embossed numbers.

“How can I be overdrawn? I still have checks in my check book!”

The general thought on how the new Zimbabwe Government ran the economy of the country was like a woman I went with before I married my Wife. Thank God I didn’t marry this woman! She once said something to the effect of… “How can I be overdrawn? I still have checks in my checkbook!” Not said word for word by her, but similar. She never balanced her check book because she didn’t know how and didn’t care. Exactly the same attitude and situation of the new black Communist Zimbabwe Government.

The economy of Rhodesia, prior to “Independence,” was flourishing. Rhodesia had virtually no inflation prior to Independence, which I find unusual because of the ongoing costly Rhodesian Bush War, United Nations economic and military sanctions of 13 years. No other country could officially trade with them because of United Nations economic and military sanctions. It was as if the country didn’t exist.

What if find amazing is how the economy boomed for a country despite what Rhodesia had to do to get around this invisible but financially damaging economic and military blockade. The war against the Communists took a huge amount of Rhodesia’s Gross National Product, however, the health and growth of the Rhodesian financial system was similar to Germany’s after 1933 when the control went to the National Socialists (Also Known As Nazis… the other Collectivist Pukes, along with the Soviet Bolshevik pukes).

Despite massive spending for Rhodesia in the war against the Communists and Germany’s huge rearmament endeavor prior to World War II, both economies flourished. Why? I believe it was for this reason. As soon as the International Bankers were no longer involved sucking the lifeblood out of the country and the people, both countries thrived. Also, the Rhodesians quickly became extremely creative in illicit foreign trade, manufacturing and innovation.

A big factor was that Rhodesia was one of only two sources of Chromium Ore in the world, a critical mineral in defense manufacturing, during this “Cold War” period. Soviet Russia, our “Cold War” enemy, had the only other source, which they obviously wouldn’t sell to their arch enemy, America. Rhodesia’s Chromium Ore was sold through back-channel shady middlemen to the United States. You’ll read about this later.

At the time of “Independence” all economics factored in, the Rhodesian Dollar was actually worth more than the American Dollar. This was the result of decades of simple financial responsibility from pre-Independence blacks and whites from Chromium Ore and a huge agricultural output. However, since sanctions were placed on Rhodesia by the United Nations, the Rhodesian Dollar could not be legally exchanged nor was it honored by other countries. Back alley trades had to be made to exchange it for other currencies.

7,900,000,000 percent inflation PER MONTH

The inflation was so bad in Zimbabwe in 2007 and 2008 that a formula was used to calculate it for simplicity. You know your country’s currency is in deep shytte when inflation has to be expressed by an exponential number. Such as… 7.96% X 10¹⁰, much simpler than trying to count and write all those mind-boggling and pesky ZEROS… such as 7,900,000,000 percent inflation PER MONTH, just before the collapse. Yes, boys and girls… you counted correctly. That’s a ten-digit currency number!

At Independence the Communists took over. Generally, content and well fed white and black Africans soon became slim, as if the entire country’s population went on a forced “Weight Watchers” program. In their quest to make everyone “equal” …the “leadership,” headed by robert mugabe (I refuse to capitalize his name as he rots in hell and proved himself to be a most unremarkable man, of less stature than the most common black or white person in Africa), raped the country economically for over three decades.

The leadership sent all the wealth of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe they could get their hands on out of the country, putting it in their own names in Swiss bank accounts and with real estate holdings in foreign countries. Americans believe that Elon Musk is the wealthiest man in the World? He is poor compared to what the Zimbabwe “leadership” stole from the Treasury and country before the economy collapsed.

Equality for everyone except the leadership… “Equality for thee, the money to me!” This financial robbery alone, I believe had a great impact on what happened, removing everything thing of value from Zimbabwe, destroying the economy and financial stability of the country. Further out of control irresponsible spending pushed the economy over the cliff and into the gorge of disaster.

The Zimbabwe Reserve Bank then started over again, ordering the German printer to make even larger denomination bills in the range of tens of thousands of dollars, like 100,000, 50,000, 10,000-dollar bills. … which then meant the same suitcase full of them were needed to pay for a $70 USD meal as inflation grew faster than the Zimbabwe Reserve Bank could add zeros to their printed dollars.

Zimbabwe Government decides to “manage” the pensions!

To add insult to injury, after robert mugabe died, the new leader Emerson Mnangagwa, who, in my opinion was at one time of steadfast character and driven by true passion as a revolutionary, which I can understand, inherited a financial mess from mugabe with Zimbabwe.

However, Mnangagwa appears to be on the same path as mugabe in becoming another very unremarkable black African. I must, out of fairness, say that being left a house with the financial roof falling in on him may unfairly slant Mnangagwa’s character and legacy as the present leader.

He first tried to get some of mugabe’s trillion-dollar fortune back into the country from mugabe’s wife, who now controlled mugabe’s assets. Whether for himself or Zimbabwe, I don’t know. mugabe had, in some mysterious way, protected his personal assets from being touched by those outside his family and or had left a “dead man’s switch” of control over Mnangagwa and those in the government. When this failed for Mnangagwa, he had no financial recourse for Zimbabwe, as the Treasury and the country had been bled dry. We’ll see what character Mnangagwa makes for himself in the years to come.

One exception was found, so to absolutely destroy the future of those in Zimbabwe, the Zimbabwe Reserve Bank confiscated all remaining 6.3 Billion dollars of retirement money, designated to be in U.S. Dollars retirement accounts. This money, which the Treasury could seize but which couldn’t be taken by pensioners out of the country, was confiscated from black and white pension accounts in the country. Zero dollars were left to pensioners. Amazingly, in a similar parallel, the United States Government has their eyes set on all U.S. 401K and IRA retirement savings and already have the authority to put money into the General Fund from these accounts.

To Zimbabweans however, that meant all retirement money was gone and pensioners had nothing to live on. If you were 80 or 95 in poor health or too old to work, that was your problem. The retirement accounts were replaced with “I.O.U.s” of the Zimbabwe Reserve Bank, promising payment in the future. Worthless. There was no monthly money for retired blacks or whites. Period. Most had only the coin change in a jar, what they could sell to some who did have money or the money in a purse or wallet to live on.

All retirees were left begging on the street, trying to find work to go back to, or living off other Family more financially fortunate or who sent them money from outside of the country. Suddenly elderly Zimbabweans were trying to find anything of value to sell to get enough to leave the country. If you did sell something of value, you would have to get paid illegally in another currency worth something… because the Zimbabwe Dollar continued on its trajectory towards zero daily, until the country switched back to the American Dollar as unofficial currency.

Picture the grotesqueness and despair an elderly woman begging. A woman my Wife knows who lived in Zimbabwe, who had no Family and was unable to afford to leave, was a former financially comfortable but now 83-year-old ex-British Zimbabwean naturalized woman left a widow. Her and her late husband’s pensions and savings were confiscated by the Treasury. She has lost her home because she couldn’t pay the property taxes that had been raised so high to help the government out of the mess it created for itself.

This woman bakes pies to sell for one dollar on the street to try to scrape enough money together to eat and pay the rent on her dilapidated apartment. The poor black Africans actually helped this white African lady because she fed so many of them who were without food when she had money.

This is the reality of desperation in Africa. mugabe is sadly a name somewhat known outside the country… and the good men of Africa, like Morgan Tsvangirai, Roy Bennett and Communist Thomas Sankara, are unknowns.

This is what irresponsible and corrupt politicians and their Central Bankers do to the value of your money. That same total irresponsibility is occurring in the United States… now! If the dinner sales-receipt you will see appears humorous and like a grotesque joke to you… understand that the cash in your wallet and under your mattress would be worth NOTHING! It won’t be funny when it happens here, I can assure you.

My African Heroes… Morgan Tsvangirai, Roy Bennett and Thomas Sankara. Look them up.

Some men, despite the abundance and temptations of power and riches beyond their wildest dreams, work unselfishly for the good of people. Unfortunately, they are usually aligned with an ideology that is an illusion, such as Communism. In the past these mostly honest leaders clung to these illusionary ideologies out of desperation for support, before the breakup of the Soviet Union.

The only other support side pre-Soviet Union disintegration involved International Bankers who sucked the life blood out of their countries and people. Now even the Communist side is controlled and directed by that mysterious clique above the Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos since the demise of the Soviet Union

Thomas Sankara of Burkina Faso in Central Africa was such a man. Killed by the greedy French Bankers that he would not sacrifice his country to. Shunning these bankers, Sankara made huge strides in the welfare of his country. Burkina Faso’s economy drastically flourished.

I would have fought to the death with Sankara as no other death could be as well spent, despite his Communist beliefs. Not so with mugabe in Zimbabwe who concentrated his efforts on removing the politicians opposed to him. Sankara lived what he thought… he did not have air-conditioning in his office, because the people didn’t have air-conditioning. Good man and good start.

The Late Honorable Morgan Tsvangirai

Chikurubi Prison, northeast of the Capital Harari, Zimbabwe was designated to house and “process” political prisoners and “Enemies of the State.” Inhumane conditions, overcrowding and torture were the only things in abundance there… food was not.

 

Such good men as my Zimbabwe black hero Morgan Tsvangirai, mugabe’s main opposition political leader, and my Zimbabwe white hero, parliament member Roy Bennet were taken there.

The Late Honorable Roy Bennett

They were tortured because they were a danger to mugabe’s control and a threat to interrupting the river of money flowing into the Communist Leadership’s foreign accounts.

Tsvangirai and Bennet had both been doing their best to defeat mugabe in elections because of the destruction he was doing to the country and people.

The African Continent “Assassination by Lorry” Technique

Even the black Supreme Court Justices of integrity who ruled in Tsvangirai and Bennett’s favor out of fairness and by the spirit of the law were arrested by mugabe, thrown in prison and tortured. Finally, when international outcry forced the government to back off and release Tsvangirai, Bennett and the judges, mugabe attempted the infamous African Continent Assassination Technique of “Assassination by Lorry,” on his chief rival Morgan Tsvangirai.

While Tsvangirai and his Wife were driving down a highway, a heavy truck coming towards them, crossed into their lane and hit them head on. Tsvangirai’s Wife was killed outright, their driver killed and Tsvangirai almost died. The “accident” ended his ability to continue to campaign against mugabe. Tsvangirai insisted it was just an accident but after his experience in prison, little else could be expected to be said by him.

Roy Bennett was later killed in a helicopter crash. This essentially ended political opposition to mugabe and, re-elected, he continued to financially rape Zimbabwe until his death, with no further interference. The Zimbabwe Communist’s black police and army could do anything without the interference of those white and black policemen and soldiers who had been a bulwark against excessive brutality but had been paid to resign. The North Korean 5^th Brigade was brought in to Zimbabwe to train the army in the use of brutal force. Let the killings begin.

The “Ugly Americans” …actually the American Fools

Maize or white corn, when ground into fine powder, made a flour like dough when mixed with water and cooked, called Sudza. The black African population lived on Sudza as their staple sustenance food. I’ve eaten a lot of it, and although bland and tasteless… you haven’t eaten a meal until you’ve eaten Mashona Sudza with the foot-long bone with a ring of beef around it covered with their unbelievably tasty gravy. The Africans loved to see us come into their villages hungry… they’d get all of our sugar, canned sardines and cigarettes, items they could not easily get, in trade for one of these “To die for” meals.

This is another issue you won’t hear about from the Mainstream News. Even though the Zimbabwe Government hated America, our State Department provided $75,000,000 to these Communist psychopaths to build a processing factory to provide black farmers with seed to grow Maize, since the government had killed or forced most of the white and black farmers, who knew how to grow seed, out of business and out of the country. That is just part of the millions the U.S. gives them each year and still do. Two years after the United States State Department’s donation of money, embassy personnel went to inspect the seed factory. All that was done was a concrete floor with weeds growing around it.

Furious, in that prideful bureaucratic “We don’t care about the money, but you defied me,” “Embassy Bureaucrat Hissy-Fit-Tantrum” complaining that the Zimbabwe leadership had stolen the money. So, the U.S. Embassy decided to again fund the seed factory. “Once a mistake, twice a fool” and “The American Taxpayers have plenty money!” I doubt that even that last statement of ‘taxpayer money’ even crosses their minds now.

But there is this gem of reasoning in American government bureaucrat’s thinking. That is… “Why buy one… when you can buy two at twice the price?” The completion cost of the seed factory was now well over one hundred million dollars. However, this time American officials decided they would supervise the payments from an office at the seed factory construction site. All labor and materials were directly paid by the Americans on delivery only and only after seeing the work finished and materials in place with their own eyes.

The workers went on strike demanding twice the hourly wage. The Americans agreed to pay this wage then found that after all money allotted for labor was expended and work stopped, that the government had arranged the strike and each payday mugabe’s men were collecting half of the cash paid workers on payday. If they wanted to keep their job, the workers paid the money over.

Again, truckloads of this money were sent out of the country to European banks or to buy European real estate owned by the leadership. Such is Africa… “The Continent of the Apocalypse Now” and “The Land of Blood and Tears.” Whites now refer to Zimbabwe by the term “Zimbo” which to them characterizes the express fast-lane road to the desolation and destruction of Zimbabwe. The seed factory sits to this day unfinished. Repayment for Carter and Andrew Young helping to throw the yoke of “slavery” off the black African.

Read this editorial by K. Myers that appeared in The Irish Independent. Myers was fired after printing this “Hard Truth” that no Westerner wants to consider. You’ll have to read it here, as its existence has been “sanitized” (disappeared) from the Mainstream Internet…

“AFRICA is giving nothing to anyone… apart from AIDS”

#5 The $1,243,255,000.00 Lunch for Three

• Again, the $1,243,255,000.00 Lunch for Three
• To understand Rhodesia is to know its relationship to South Africa and the fall of Mozambique in 1975
• Africa, “The Land of Blood and Tears” and “The Continent of the Apocalypse Now.”
• Two unlikely bed fellows
• “What AIDs!? …we don’t have no stinking AIDs!”
• The Girl at the Gate

Again, consider my Brother-In-Law taking my Wife and his Mother… my Mother-In-Law… to lunch in Zimbabwe. Over ONE BILLION DOLLARS. Let that sink into your head! He carried two large suitcases along with him, not because anyone was going to travel after supper, but because the supper that cost $70 in U.S. Dollars was paid for in Zimbabwe dollars. The two suitcases were stuffed with small denomination Zimbabwe Dollar Notes which they needed all of, to pay for this simple night out. If you’ll notice the sales receipt, all those zeros mean something. $95,635,000 dollars for a bottled water!?

The Zimbabwe Dollar a few a years earlier was almost equal in value to the United States Dollar. Inflation was raging, but this was before the large denomination bills had begun to be printed by the German Printing Company Giesecke & Devrient.

 

A $1.2 Billion Dollar Supper

By the time the larger denomination bills were printed, shipped to Zimbabwe and circulated, inflation had spiraled beyond the practical use of these new bills. They might be thousand-dollar denominations, but you now needed a suitcase full of them to pay for the $70 USD meal.

Most all vegetables and meat were grown and processed from countryside wild animals and brought to city street vendor markets as stores closed because of inflation and the decree of arrest. Sanitation stopped to a large degree because of Leadership diversion of money and zero motivation to deal with sanitation… that is critical to any society.

Vegetables locally grown in Africa look so brilliantly fresh and nutritious… however, they are washed in water that contains fecal matter, bacteria and parasites. Humans get sick and get parasites. In Zimbabwe, this started an epidemic of Cholera along with Dysentery and Typhus. Thousands died because the Communist leader mugabe refused to acknowledge this crisis… prideful, greedy fool that he was. He further prevented anyone in the government to treat or even acknowledge that, in Zimbabwe, AIDS was running rampant and killing people by the thousands. International help was refused, because according to mugabe, the problems didn’t exist

To understand Rhodesia is to know its relationship to South Africa and the fall of Mozambique in 1975

Rhodesia and South Africa were intertwined for decades, but after the fall of Rhodesia’s ocean access of the Portuguese Colony of Mozambique on the Eastern border of Rhodesia to Communist “Frelimo,” South Africa became the ocean port access for the Rhodesians, even though the main port, Durban, South Africa was about ten times the distance as was the previous ocean port the Mozambique Capitol, Beira.

The shockwave of Mozambique falling to the Communists, after they had virtually eliminated the Communist guerillas they’d been fighting for a decade, should have be a prophesy of what was to come to both Rhodesia and South Africa. The Mozambique Communist Frelimo were cornered in the north of the country and had only 130 or less Terrorists left alive. The Mozambique Communist Terrorists were finished, just as Rhodesia defeated the Communist Terrorists. That prophesy was that the mysterious power Clique controlling the Western World would force the Communists into power by political pressure through America, Britain and the Western world.

The Communists in the Portuguese Government had sent Portuguese troops into Mozambique to fight their own Portuguese countrymen, most of whom had lived there for centuries, forcing them to surrender the government to the Communists.

Despite their decades long, hard-fought victory earlier over the Communist guerillas, the Portuguese Government troops took control of Mozambique after fierce fighting. They then turned the country over to the Communists, who promptly destroyed the country. Go figure.

One of the men who came into my Commando was a Portuguese who fought to hold the radio station in Beira, from the Portuguese Government troops. His force of 50 men were overwhelmed by thousands of Portuguese Government troops who had been flown in, fought and taken over the Beira airport, where more Portuguese Government troops were landing by the hour.

In fear for his life and with many of his group dead, he escaped at the very last moment, took a car from the parking lot, sped to his Mother’s dairy farm not far from the Rhodesian border, grabbed her and all the valuables and possessions they could load into the car and crossed the border into Rhodesia.

He told me he saw the Portuguese Army forces pull up and blockade the border, in the review mirror of his vehicle, as he drove across the border into Rhodesia He crossed just seconds before it closed. He would have been arrested and suffered the fate of his comrades who had managed to stay alive. Fatal.

Africa, “The Land of Blood and Tears” and “The Continent of the Apocalypse Now.”

This Portuguese in fear for his life? This you will not read in the sanitized American and Western History of Africa, just like the fall of Angola to the Communists, that unspeakable atrocities to the Portuguese occurred in Mozambique. In Angola, some 100 to 200 Portuguese men, women and children were tied to planks of wood and run through a sawmill lengthwise by the Communists.

No one knows the actual number as no one kept count and no one will ever know. In Africa, a human body, or the remnants of, will be entirely consumed by the jungle, ants and wildlife in a few days. Not even a bone left if there are hyenas present in the early stages of the feast and the marrow hasn’t been taken by the insects.

Two unlikely bed fellows

Coming into the period of the 1960s and 70s Rhodesia and South Africa became reliant on each other as they faced the same quandary of Communist sponsored guerilla warfare and Western support. The fear of loss to Majority Rule by Africans, who were not prepared to run the countries, again meant the eminent destruction of each country. They were correct in their thinking. Even though the South African Afrikaners loathed the British, who made up most of the white population of Rhodesia, they began to see Rhodesia’s problem as their problem also.

Rhodesia was initially viewed as a “buffer” against Communist Terrorists by South Africa. Later, huge amounts of military and economic aid were provided by them to Rhodesia. At one point during my time in Rhodesia, South African helicopter pilots flew into Mozambique to extract us, but received so much ground fire that they had to fly out before they could land. Why South African pilots? Because many of the Rhodesian pilots had left the country, getting out while the getting was good. See “An American in Africa” and “The Thermobaric Bomb in Mozambique July 78” on my Substack.

“What AIDs!? …we don’t have no stinking AIDs!”

After Independence, 80% of the Army had AIDS and were dropping… “like flies from a first winter’s hard freeze.” Millions of black and white Zimbabweans died over a decade from disease and starvation, while the leadership continued to steal anything of value and import their Bentley and Rolls-Royce Luxury Automobiles from England… that had first been taken apart and gold plated… then shipped to Zimbabwe.

I watched mugabe say on television back then as he scoffed… “Zimbabwe does not have a problem with AIDs, that is a fabrication of those who don’t want to see Zimbabwe succeed!” What he meant was facts being told the world were from those who want to interrupt his river of money flowing out of the country to his foreign bank accounts.

The Communist elites and rulers lived in a walled off area hidden from the population and guarded by the Army and police. Just like what my Cardiologist, raised and educated in Poland under Communism, saw when his Bulgarian friends took him and his Wife on a tour of the Bulgarian Communist leadership’s walled in area after the fall of Communism in Bulgaria. That’s Communist Equality.

While people starved to death in Zimbabwe, the leaders shopped in their own private Nieman-Marcus type high end department stores and dined in their private 5-star restaurants… all within this gated and guarded separate small country within a country. This was the reality, of not just Zimbabwe, but has been of Communist countries everywhere.

The Girl at the Gate

Many whites and blacks did their best to try to feed the starving while the government confiscated international relief food convoys and resold it on the Black Market. An incident that happened to my Wife shows the harsh reality of what happens when you try to feed the starving. My Wife’s Family wasn’t extremely wealthy but they had more money than most.

My Wife was summoned to the gate of their walled in property by the gate security guard who told her that a young girl wanted to speak to her. Not that Zimbabweans had not seen emaciated people, as the starving dead and dying people were everywhere, but the gate guard was moved by this young girl, probably 12 years old. She barely had the strength to walk, was wearing a filthy dress in taters and was skin and bones. Probably close to death but she could still walk. My Wife went to the gate where the girl asked in a barely audible voice… “Do you have anything I can eat?”

My Wife was so upset at the appearance of this young black girl, that she broke down crying. My Wife went to the house and made this girl a huge sandwich and gave her a bottle of water. My Wife’s Mother, who had been gone, soon came back home. When my Wife told her the story about feeding the starving girl, my Mother-In-Law was furious with her. “You can’t do that no matter how much it hurts you!” she yelled at my Wife… “You don’t understand!”

To understand why, was to see two hundred some starving people, barely able to walk, at the gate the next day, that they couldn’t feed. Had these starving people been in better physical condition, my Wife and the blacks in her employ would certainly have been killed for the food they had. In short, the starving blacks were so weak they were not strong enough to take from others violently. That’s the misery of these tumultuous conflicts and tyranny by “leaders” …and the children suffer the most. It is disheartening to think of the black African children who have survived and grown to live with the trauma they’ve seen, that they now live with every waking and sleeping hour of their existence.

When Food and Water are not available, we’ll see much more violence in America than in Zimbabwe. I encourage all to read “When the Music Stops… How America’s Cities Will Explode with Violence” by Matt Bracken.

Part 1 

Part 2 

#6 Now you see it… now you don’t! Calling Mister Morris-Mini

• Now you see it… now you don’t! Calling Mister Morris-Mini
• The woman with the submachine gun in the evening gown
• The most incredibly beautiful women in the world

 

Crime goes on. My Wife-To-Be and I went to an upscale hotel with fine dining one Friday night. The Meikles Hotel. She drove her Morris-Mini, which was a frightening enough experience by itself. Just joking… she’s an exceptionally good driver. Right-hand side of the road… or Left-hand side of the road, as was Rhodesia-Zimbabwe… she’s adept and careful. British and “all that rot,” you know. Actually Rhodesian.

The Morris-Mini is a similar size to the German Beetle and was the British answer to Hitler’s Volkswagen (People’s Car) that became even more popular after World War II and threatened to destroy British Automobile manufacturing. Hitler’s revenge. The Morris-Mini was the Volkswagen’s competition. It probably weighs 1300 lbs. with a pair of sneakers in the back seat, but it gets around.

We had a wonderful meal. No special occasion. Just something we did when I got out of the bush after getting sick of eating steak and eggs, which we ate constantly in the Commando, unless one of us shot an Ostridge. We had our meal and a drink and decided to stay away from the night clubs and go back to her parent’s house. Meal paid for, we walked out the same hotel side door we’d come in, to the parking lot. No Morris-Mini. Damn! Did we come in that door?

Memory slightly hazy from just one drink of Bols Brandy, we turned and walked back in the side door. I stopped. I knew we’d come in this door, because just to our left was a 100 some foot-long, hand crafted Imbuia Wood check in counter and the sight I saw earlier in front of it. Since both my Wife-To-Be and I knew we’d parked outside this door, we turned and went back out to find her car, that we’d obviously over looked. Not there.

Just to be sure, we walked all three sides of the hotel parking lot. No Morris-Mini. It was gone. My Wife had the keys in her hand. Hotwired and stolen? We called the police. They came and looked also and proclaimed it stolen. It was not hotwired they said. The car thieves, blacks operating out of the Tribal Trust Lands, simply pull up alongside a small car, driving a box bed truck and post lookouts. Then when the coast is clear… a dozen of them get out of the back of the box bed truck… pick up the car, load it into the truck and drive off.

Because of UN Sanctions for a decade and a half, the parts of a car were worth collectively more than the car. My Father-In-Law had connections with everyone and was notified some months later by a police contact, that what was left of my Wife’s car had been located in the Tribal Trust Lands. Stripped of everything that could be taken off. Who thinks that life’s professions stop just because of a war? Crime certainly doesn’t.

The woman in the evening gown with the submachine gun 

The sight I saw earlier at that seeming endlessly long check-in counter was mind boggling. A sight reminiscent from western movies, where the public could check their guns in, like the American Old West. Because of Terrorism, the security at the Meikles was first class, menacing and very capable looking guards carrying submachine guns and posted everywhere. Probably black African RAR single guys ‘moonlighting’ on leave. In front of this counter stood an unbelievably beautiful woman in a glittery diamond sequined, full length evening gown holding a Sten Submachine Gun with a Browning Hi-Power pistol strapped around her delicate waist, complete with extra magazines

How strange it was… her standing behind her hardy looking husband who was wearing a tuxedo, he handing two pistols and a 12-gauge riot shotgun to the black counter clerk, checking in his weapons. They were put behind the counter on a counter, with a hundred others that had name tags on them. I asked our one of the waiters passing by what was going on, as we sat in the lobby awaiting our table at the restaurant. “Oh, there’s a farmer’s association banquet in the main ball room tonight.”

This woman and her husband had traveled from afar on remote dangerous roads to attend this affair. The Rhodesian farmers were most likely to be attacked traveling on secondary roads to town. Brave. Much braver than yours truly, who always carried a pistol and a couple of knives with him. Read about “The Fork Man” who killed many farm Families at my Substack He’s no longer harming the innocent of the planet.

The most incredibly beautiful women in the world

There was mixing of the races big time at a hotel called “The Alexandria” which was in a dicey part of Salisbury (now Harare). The “No Man’s Land” area between white and black areas. Before I met my Wife and due to the fact that I come from a multi-racial Family of all races and many ethnicities, I have always been ‘non-denominational’ so to speak, when it comes to women. If they’re clean, act civilized and are beautiful, it was hard for me to let a skirt walk by without attempting to ‘hit on them.’

But at the hotel “The Alexandria” I was introduced to what the black and white Africans call a Goffal. A Goffal, which I’ve never found the true meaning of the word other than it’s a slang, offensive, derogatory and insulting Afrikaner term. A Goffal is a person who is a mixture of one… or maybe as many as the three races and multiple ethnic groups. Also referred to as “Coloureds.” What a terrible word to describe any person, let alone such beauty… as everyone is of some color… white, brown, yellow, black or green, like Kermit the Frog.

Whoaaaa! Hold yar horses! I have to tell you that I don’t believe I’d ever seen so many incredibly beautiful women in my life in one place. It was a gathering of the likenesses of the last 200 Playboy “Playmate of the Month” issues. Hundreds. Mixtures and shades from almost white to black as the ‘Ace of Spades,’ all with beautiful features. One or more… or all of the following… white, black, Oriental, Hispanic, Portuguese. The figures on these women would make any Playboy Playmate jealous. Most of them intelligent, extremely attractive. They were classy and dressed very “Western” looking. Most there to hook up with someone to take them out of this racial war-torn madness to a land where wars were not as prevalent. The Scandinavians and Germans were thick as hair on a dog there.

I wore out that place until I met my Wife, a ‘runway’ model for a high-end woman’s clothing store. It was probably my mixed Family and that was why my first novel, “And We Hide From The Devil,” had an underlying message condoning intermarriage of races. I found it ironic that the Amazon Communist Commissar’s Censorship Committee deleted my account for this book? The underlying message of interracial marriage, tolerance and all.

Amazon just dumped my account totally with some moronic statement that “the content of my books did not meet their standards,” or some such crap in an assemblage of vague wording from that same Communist Commissar’s Censorship Committee. That was after I sold hundreds previously through them. I suppose because they didn’t like my late Friend, Green Beret Colonel Sully deFontaine’s account of their Communist fraud-hero Patrick Lumumba, even though he was Lumumba’s bodyguard. Go Figure.

Some of the hardcore Rhodie guys, would beat you black and blue with the enthusiastic help from some of the South African guys, if they found you with one of these black or colored women or making your way to or from The Alexandria Hotel… unless, they were going to the huge bar of this hotel to check out the action for themselves.

I was actually threatened with a thumping by a group of Rhodesians who discovered I went there. Then one night I walked into the bar and saw the mouthiest of the lot of these guys who had threatened me, leaning up against the bar as if he was propping it up from falling over with his arse, drink in hand and intensely scanning the women.

He looked at me and quickly looked away with momentary self-condemning guilt. I simply smiled at him. His butt was still propped up against the bar talking with a gorgeous Goffal woman when I left. All this race separation seemed a necessity to the Rhodesians and South Africans as they perceived it at the time and had so for centuries. They probably believed it was absolutely the thing to do. Judging by the shytte mess the black African has made of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe, South Africa and all the other former colony countries for both black and white Africans in three short decades, they were in part correct in their prejudices.

But as this outsider, me, stuck his nose in where it didn’t belong like most of the rest of the outside world, I told most of these guys that they had waited too long to integrate capable blacks into the mainstream of their societies. My statements were met with silence and looks of anger and guilt. I was out of line even saying this, but I’ve never been very tactful. It could have been different, but the black and white Religious Zealots preaching “Fire and Brimstone” forbade it. Then the racial separation and discrimination by laws and rules set the stage for the Communists and Leftists in the world to start the war, the chaos and the transitional collapse.

My Color Crayon Box multi-racial Family

Like a well-varied color crayon box in Kindergarten… my Family has it all. That is my multi-racial “Whatever ethnic group you’re from, it’s in the Lawson’s cousins, grandchildren, nieces and nephews and my immediate blood and adopted Family.” My Family has grown up and gotten past calling each other “Chink, nigger, cracker, wop, spic, faggot, whitey, queer, ghetto trash, trailer trash” and whatever else all those childish words are.

Like the world, we struggle to get along, but generally, it works. Beautiful people of my Family whom I dearly love. We tolerate, love, and get along fairly well… me being the “Out There” Brother, Uncle, Father and Grand Dad. I, in turn, tolerate them all. Except for those who have become so highly educated, that they have become in essence Communists. They still can’t tie their shoes and none of them have lived more than 500 miles from home. But they know EVERYTHING about the world because they’ve read books about the world.

Looking back on my childhood, I feel sorry. Maybe I hit them too hard or too many times in sibling spats as a kid. Their emotion and general idiocy still over rides logic in their thought processes. Brain damage and all from my beating them or them falling off their bicycle and hitting their heads on the concrete curb too many times, you know. Oh well… the damage is done.

Now, all this racial and woke agenda crap makes me want to puke… it’s being used by the Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos as an agenda for control… an agenda to curtail people’s free speech because “words hurt!” I thought it was “Sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.” So, we must modify the First Amendment to the United States Constitution. Freedom of Speech is a threat to our “Democracy.” Replace that world with “Bureaucracy.” For God’s sake, don’t have ANYTHING TO SAY about race in your words! BUT THAT’S RACIST IN ITSELF. Prejudiced!!! Fools and idiots… all of them a very loud-mouthed vocal minority.

#7 Tribal Trust Lands… the Rhodesian version of the American Indian Reservation

• Tribal Trust Lands… the Rhodesian version of the American Indian Reservation
• Two eight-year-old children “pilots” attempt to fly a 747 from Los Angeles to Tokyo, Japan
• United Nations Sanctions backfired as the Rhodesian Economy Prospered
• The embryo that grows into the monster of HyperInflation
• The fishermen who love burgling, or is it the burglars who love fishing?
• America is headed the same direction as what you read here

Law and order. Most of Rhodesia’s land was under black African Tribal control at least in name. Somewhere around 80% of the area of the country. But that excluded the best farmland and mining areas. The British South Africa Company made sure they got their greedy hands on the best first. Still these were huge areas the black Africans lived in, famed and raised cattle and their Families in, and controlled. The Tribes were generally the law and order in their areas.

The whites of Rhodesia couldn’t just go driving around in the Tribal Trust Lands. Off limits unless you had a permit! The beginning and end of authority in these areas was the Tribal Chiefs and the Elders and they dispensed their own Law and Order by Tribal Council action. Each major Tribe in Rhodesia-Zimbabwe has clans within it. The violation of the rules of the Tribe only involved the BSAP (British South African Police-Rhodesian) when death or great injury was involved.

Much like the American Indian Reservations do. BSAP “Tribal Police” composed of some white and mostly black policemen, “Tribal Tribunals” and such kept order and harmony. African Tribes are governed by the Tribal Elder System of Rules and “Tribunal,” which have historically been passed down through the centuries by ongoing living enforcement example and verbal teaching. Not written down back then, but like a fire that has never died out because wood is put on it 24/7/365 for millennia… these laws have been passed down for thousands of years.

Simple and effective rules by which they govern that they rarely change. I don’t really know, but some of the younger and educated of the Tribe probably record these trials in some manner now. But that’s how it was under the Rhodesian Government… I don’t think it is so now. Nor do the court systems of Zimbabwe, even though patterned after the British Judicial system, function fairly now.

Back in the day of the Tribal areas, The Elder System of Rules did not confuse a Tribunal decision, by being influenced or decided “By Related Precedent,” as most Western Law does, in letting another previous legal decision affect the outcome of all or part of the situation’s trial at hand. THE TRIBAL RULES ONLY decide as an unchangeable absolute. This is one of many positive attributes of African Tribes that other societies in the world could learn from. Judge one situation without letting other situations change the rules or adversely affect a situation.

Two eight-year-old children “pilots” attempt to fly a 747 from Los Angeles to Tokyo, Japan

The Rhodesian white Africans knew that the black Africans had ruined every country in Africa that had immediately been turned over to the blacks for “Majority Rule.” No preparation of Africans to run the government was given… just the demand of the former colonizer of the country forcing the government to turn control over to the majority, who are black. The colonizer that had raped and robbed these countries, now got revenge by putting the incompetents in charge. Like colonial retaliation of a haughty and condescending attitude. That was apparent towards the black African from those English and Europeans who were new to Africa. Those white Africans who lived there most of their lives got along well with the black Africans… much better than the new immigrants.

I compare turning these colonies in Africa over to the ignorant, uneducated and unprepared Tribal black Africans, was like putting two 8-year-old children, enthusiastic about airplanes but with no flight experience, in the pilot’s and co-pilot’s seat a 747-passenger aircraft at Los Angeles Airport, fully fueled. Then loading the plane with passengers and telling these two children “pilots” to take off and fly to Tokyo Japan.

Take the natural inclination of normal children, even at the age of 8-years-old, would be responsible not to do anything because they know they’d kill the passengers… but take that out of this equation. The plane, towed by tractor to a takeoff position on the runway, where these two 8-year-old children manage to push the engine throttles to maximum thrust… Well, you know what would happen there… a crash and burn.

To the former colonists, it wasn’t an act of goodness giving black Majority Rule to the inhabitants of their former colonies… it was the epitome of racial discrimination… and revenge from those who previously controlled the colonies. Of course, in the process, it would allow them to get minerals and wealth at “yesterday’s prices” by simple bribes of the new black leaders.

That’s what the situation was at the moment “Independence” was granted Rhodesia. Only worse was that the “pilots” were ignorant, uneducated and unprepared Communist black Africans who ruled with absolute control and had a Collectivist’s distain for the reality of base concepts of economics. That reality, bit them in their arses. Like I said earlier, I told a few Rhodesians and South Africans “You waited too long to integrate the black Africans who wanted in.” They did, as tactless as my statement was.

African blacks are not stupid. I found some to be extremely intelligent… like a cross section of races… some way more so than the majority of other races. The black African’s common sense in their control of low level technical and Tribal affairs is far superior to most Americans now, who have totally lost any skills they used to have and have definitely loss their common sense. But the black African’s world is lived based on a different thought process.

But I said “ignorant” not “stupid.” Before you call me “racist,” look up the word “ignorant” in the dictionary. It means basically “uninformed” and what it doesn’t mean is “stupid.” So, this extremely wealthy country at Independence, one of the wealthiest on the African Continent, flush with money and commodities was simply robbed by greedy and ignorant people… and the robbers, the Communist leadership, could never get enough and paid no attention to basic economic principles.

Import them into the Western World? Only a fool would do that. To bring Third World (Countries that have gravel sidewalks) or Fourth World (Countries that don’t have any sidewalks, just foot-beaten paths) adults into the Western World is a society’s destruction. Import these ADULT people, feral from some areas or the world, if you want to live in the environment they’ve come from.

They will not homogenize in the West’s “great melting pot of cultures, races, religions and ethnicities” and most DO NOT want to have much to do with the West’s culture. I can’t blame them. They will form their own “countries within our countries” by segregated enclave. Bring their offspring in as toddlers and young children and they grow to be adults with the same values and culture of the Western World Family they’ve grown up in… with some exception. That’s my Family, all adopted. All Americans, ideologies of some that have been taught, is another issue.

United Nations Sanctions backfired as the Rhodesian Economy Prospered

Prior to black Majority Rule through Independence, the Rhodesian government prospered, even with United Nations Sanctions. Again, UN Sanctions declared that no one in the world was allowed to trade with them. The Rhodesians, unable to sell their agricultural produce directly to the rest of Africa, then began to sell it through South Africa, who resold it to the rest of Africa. So, the Rhodesians never skipped an economic beat.

The South Africans, who knew they were the next target of the Communists, initially quietly supported the Rhodesians, with trade, economic support and military assistance, which turned to open support for the Rhodesians, as the world focused increasingly on them.

The Rhodesian Dollar, at Independence and a few a years before inflation began, was worth more in value to the United States Dollar. I’ve stated that here before but let that sink into your mind. The new government stole, plundered, looted and blew money on everything… all most exclusively by the leadership. When the Zimbabwe black Communist Government ran out of money… they simply printed more. Mountains more to pay their bills.

Despite the constant looting of the Treasury, Zimbabwe still had a massive agricultural output. For a few years after Independence, export of agricultural products brought huge amounts of money into the country, which was promptly stolen and sent out of the country. Agricultural Production was sold for hard currency critical to Rhodesia and it was the same after Independence for Zimbabwe. The difference being, the Rhodesian white controlled government ensured both white and black had plenty to eat before selling the surplus and didn’t rob the treasury. After Independence and looting of the country, this source of hard currency was more important than ever.

The embryo that grows into the monster of HyperInflation

However, the Communist leadership let the population starve while the agricultural production was sold and the proceeds from it quickly stolen by them from the Treasury and sent out of Zimbabwe, further weakening their dollar. So, they printed more dollars to pay their debts. This endless printing of dollars is the embryo that grows into the monster of HyperInflation. Sound like America?

But then to add stupid to recklessness, greed and corruption, the Zimbabwe government started killing and brutalizing the remaining white farmers and confiscating their farms. The blacks who took over the farms had no idea how to farm, so fertile land was soon covered with weeds and modern farm machinery sat rusting. Within a couple of years, Zimbabwe was begging for international food shipments to prevent massive starvation.

As always, the International community, who demands changes in countries and of people that they know nothing about, generously bailed out Zimbabwe… as they continually do the rest of Africa… almost mindlessly but “feel good” action to them. As that food aid came into Zimbabwe, most was diverted and sold on the Black Market, again the money going to the leadership’s European assets and Swiss bank accounts.

There is a similar situation brewing in America. Since all industrial manufacturing has been sent overseas, all America has left for tangible goods creation is its agricultural production. When the American Dollar loses all its value to the world, I am wondering what will our government do? Confiscate agricultural production, feed us, then sell the excess… or confiscate and sell all agricultural production to the rest of the world to try to give some value to the American Dollar and keep their financial house of cards from falling in… and let us starve?

The fishermen who love burgling, or is it the burglars who love fishing?

Most of Africa that was white controlled, when governed as colonies, eradicated or controlled such problems as ‘Sleeping Sickness’ and Malaria. In Rhodesia and in the beginning years of Zimbabwe, these diseases were not an issue in the metropolitan areas. I rarely took Malaria pills unless in the bush. It is a huge problem now.

The oasis of safety from many African diseases and maladies was Rhodesia and South Africa for most of the last century… because of white governance and concern. That is gone as that invisible “fence” of the borders of those two countries has disappeared. The black African, unlike the white African, accept these maladies as part of life.

That being the case, houses didn’t have what we Americans and Westerners call “window screens” when I lived there. Window bars were everywhere, but screens didn’t exist there at the time I was there. African Thieves didn’t go into a house to burglarize while it was Rhodesia… they “fished” through the window bars. It was ‘passive’ robbery. That has changed also… as anyone, black, white, yellow, brown or green like ‘Kermit you know who,’ are fair game for home invasions now. An African businessman I knew was almost beaten to death by burglars.

Harmless looking as a food gathering tool while walking a neighborhood, the African would adeptly use the fishing pole to cast and hook your wallet, watch, diamond ring, money or anything else of value, reeling it in and out of your house while you dreamed of unicorns and such. These guys were so good, you wouldn’t want to go up against them at the Carnival fishing booth or the area casting contest held by the local Fisherman’s Club.

 

America is headed the same direction as Zimbabwe

Along with our debt-ridden, delusional, decadent, despairing society, American Treasury Bonds have become a “joke financial instrument” in the world no longer wanted by anyone who can avoid them. After people, organizations, countries bought TRILLIONS of dollars of these Ten-Year Bonds at around 1% over the last decades, those have lost value. No one wants them and they are next to impossible to sell or trade.

Why? The current Ten-Year Bonds are paying around 4%, so who would want the 1% bonds? Anyone holding the 1% Bond has in essence loaned money to the United States and will probably get back way less dollars in value than they invested because of the continual falling value of the American Dollar. At maturity, these Bonds will yield a fraction of their value compared to when these Bonds were purchased.

The United States government has turned the American Dollar into a Monetized Methamphetamine Fentanyl infused drug that is deadly to take… and that all of the world is rejecting now. The American Government has been hijacked by “The Council,” controlled by the Clique. According to Gregory Stenstrom the brilliant author and his expose of the same name, “The Council,” they are attempting to install a “CapComm” (Capitalist/Communist) Economic System, as the dominant World’s Economic system… one of Capitalism/Communism which, another word for, is Fascism. Both Communism and this “Capitalistic” CapComm system are archaic. What humanity needs more of is “Free Enterprise” or “Laissez Faire” with minimal government interference.

From “The Burning Platform” website about the demise of the United States and the Western-Industrialized world and its ‘controllers’ illusion…

“They have kept their evil maneuvers and malevolent schemes hidden from the view of the masses through their control of mass media, politicians, the financial system, and corporate entities… all doing their bidding in our corporate fascist totalitarian state… disguised as a democratic republic.”

#8 The most Courageous of the Courageous

• The most Courageous of the Courageous
• Give us ten years and we’ll turn Rhodesia into a showcase of racial harmony and the financial “Switzerland of Africa” …and economic powerhouse. What the F’?
• The effects of this on Fire Force and the Rhodesian Bush War
• The U.S., Britain and the British Commonwealth forces the Communists into Power
• Jakob-Creutzfeldt, AKA Mad Cow disease… “Trust the Science!”
• Everyone who can leave the country… goes
• What parts of a human the lion likes best?

On the remote frontier of Rhodesia were the really brave and courageous… the Rhodesian Farmers. I was also a bodyguard to remote Rhodesian Farm members of the Mashonaland Farmer’s Cooperative, who were in danger of attacks on their farms. In my off-duty time, I provided security to farm white and black Families and their farm workers, who were constantly in danger of being massacred, by Communist Terrorists. I made certain the farm workers knew I was from Fire Force, as that would get to surrounding Terrorists, who were shytte scared of us.

South Africa’s Independence Day ceremony in front of the Communist Hammer and Sickle- Joe Slovo on the right, a hardcore Marxist-Leninist with Winnie Mandela and Nelson Mandela

600 Rhodesian Farmers and many of their Family members were killed in the 13 years this war dragged on. They were beyond brave and courageous people. I’ve been to massacres of these farm Families immediately after they were killed. You do not want to know more.

Read what I witnessed of the war and transformation of Rhodesia that I write here and at my Substack in “An American in Africa.” This is not the bogus information you will read in journals and text books or hear on the Mainstream News Media from Communist sympathizers or Ivy League Leftists or just ignorant people who never set foot on the African Continent. But all these are experts who know “all about Rhodesia-Zimbabwe” and everything else about the world, even though they haven’t been more than 500 miles from their home. Dare I speculate they can’t tie their shoes either?

Give us ten years and we’ll turn Rhodesia into a showcase of racial harmony and the financial “Switzerland of Africa” …and economic powerhouse. What the F’?

I don’t think joint black and white African control of South Africa would have been possible because of centuries of racial separation and animosity… at least it would have been much more difficult. Rhodesia didn’t have the hatred of races lurking under the surface like South Africa. But that’s “Water over the dam,” so to speak.

Even knowing that, you’ll read nothing of Rhodesian Prime Minister Ian Smith’s 10-year plan in the history of the Rhodesians attempt at responsible transformation of Rhodesia to Majority Rule of Zimbabwe nor will you read about America and the West helping the Communists to conquer Rhodesia. The truth of this is in the Liberal-Communist-university-entertainment and News Industry factual historical burial grounds. Neither will you learn that the Rhodesians had won the guerilla war.

See the statement from the Commanding General of the Terrorists, right after the Communists came to power, that the Rhodesians had killed so many of their officers and men that they couldn’t have made it through the coming dry season lasting six months. Unable to win militarily, as their insurgency was about to collapse in six months, the Communists resorted to election fraud coercion with American and British backing. The South Africans, who had backed the Rhodesians with economic, military aid and fuel for years, were pressured to shut this aid off by the West. They did so on false promises that the fate of South Africa would be different to Rhodesia. They were betrayed.

In addition to all that pressure, the South Africans were forced to limit all fuel to Rhodesia after their oil imports were stopped when the Shah of Iran was overthrown in 1978. The Shah of Iran and Family, the House of Pahlavi, had been given sanctuary in Cape Town South Africa during World War II from the Nazis. Because of that, the Shah vowed to the South Africans that they would never lack Iranian oil.

The effect of this on Fire Force and the Rhodesian Bush War

There was a period of time where our helicopters ran only in an extreme emergency and our trucks sat idle as our highly mobile anti-terrorist unit was forced to walk everywhere and patrol on foot because of lack of fuel. The Rhodesians were under great pressure to force us Foreigners to leave. Mass meetings of us were held where we were told in no other words than “to leave” by the Rhodesian Commanding Generals.

The politicians to the rescue of the Communists. The Americans, under Globalist-Elite-Leftist-Communist-Internationals-One World Order-Woke & Whackos Jimmy Carter and Communist Secretary of State Andrew Young, who has openly admitted he is a Communist, backed by the British… who were still throwing temper tantrums over Rhodesia declaring independence from Britain 13 years earlier, insisted a new election be held. They demanded this new election to include the Communist robert mugabe. A cease fire was then implemented. The Communists still hadn’t defeated the Rhodesians on the battlefield after 13 years.

The U.S., Britain and the British Commonwealth forces the Communists into Power

This all was twisted towards putting Communists in power in Zimbabwe. Communist sympathizing and Leftist police were hand-selected by the Leftists of Britain and the Commonwealth (British) countries of Australia, Canada, New Zealand and were sent there to “monitor” the cease fire. In reality they assisted the Communists. My former Captain had firsthand experience with an Australian Army Lieutenant who admitted he was a Communist and was found to be passing on information that was advantageous to the Communist Terrorists.

My Captain told me some 20,000 Communist terrorists were newly recruited and encouraged by these Commonwealth “Monitors” to spread throughout Rhodesia’s Tribal Trust Lands sticking their guns in the faces of villagers. The Terrorists threatened they would come back to the villages and kill every black if mugabe did not win the election. This was a blatant violation the rules by which Rhodesia agreed to a cease fire. Generally an unknown person by the Tribal Trust Land black Africans, mugabe won and the madness began.

Jakob-Creutzfeldt, AKA Mad Cow disease… “Trust the Science!”

My Father-In-Law died a horrible death right in the middle of the Zimbabwe financial meltdown. This brilliant and caring man succumbed to Creutzfeldt-Jakob Disease, the human form of “Mad Cow Disease.” My Wife flew back to Zimbabwe in an emergency. She has never spoken about what she witnessed through the window of this room that her Father was in but from reports I can imagine.

The disease slowly eats your brain and you turn into a, frothing at the mouth, strapped to a table, former human shell of a person, writhing, screaming and howling animal sounding noises in your death throes. The hospital had sealed the room off, as they were in a panic and had never seen anything like this. At the time they had no idea of what the cause was. He apparently got the “prion” in England by ingesting it from a piece of beef, which a South African doctor specializing in Jakob-Creutzfeldt, who was brought in to deal with it determined.

This prion can lay harmlessly dormant in your body for 30 years before becoming suddenly active and causing damage and death. Only the butt-stupid British would grind the dead of a cow species and put it in the feed they fed the same cow species. Some “expert” back then would argue with you that it’s perfectly safe and who are you to object to it… as you aren’t a scientist like they are. “Trust the Science” they would condescendingly tell you. Educated fools.

Outlawed now, but a prevalent practice back then. Trust the science. The same happens to humans who are cannibals, such as the New Guinea cannibals who get “Kuru” Disease… the fatal “trembling” disease. Worse, is that science guarded the Covid “Clot Shot” as safe.

As my Father-In-Law wished, the Family went to have him cremated. No propane or natural gas in Zimbabwe. Everyone was out and the crematoriums were not able to function. So, my Mother-In-Law went to a Hindu Priest and begged them for propane for the crematorium, as that is the way of their dead being passed on the next life by their religion. Cremated.

The Hindu’s had no gas either and were burning their dead by means of funeral pyre of wood. The human body begins to writhe and bloat during cremation and partway through, a group of men has to hoist a huge and heavy log, place it on top of the body to keep the body in place so it will fully burn. Messy and something you do not want to watch, from what I’ve heard.

My Mother-In-Law was distraught and, in the end, my Father-In-Law, a defender of good and fairness to all people in Zimbabwe, regardless of their skin color or the shape of their eyes, was buried in a traditional cemetery. Not what he wanted. No gas or propane came to the country for almost a decade. Ah! Such is Africa!

Everyone who can leave the country… goes

Whites and blacks began leaving Zimbabwe in droves. Most black and white Africans left with little more than the clothes they were wearing and could carry. Some through help from Family and friends outside Zimbabwe. Black Africans were moving by the tens of thousands to South Africa, hoping to get there before they starved to death. They had no outside support system like the whites.

The black Africans walked through the bush to avoid arrest after illegally crossing the border, which was the Limpopo River dividing Zimbabwe from South Africa. Those going through the northern South African Provinces had to tie themselves up in the highest tree branches to sleep, as hundreds before them were eaten by lions.

There undoubtedly is a “bush telegraph” and lions were migrating from other areas to this kill zone by the hundreds to eat the easiest to catch prey… humans. The lions of the Orange Free State and the Natal Provinces of South Africa became fat and content.

 

What parts of a human does the lion like best?

A side bit of macabre “trivia.” A lion will be on you and kill you before you know it’s there. As big as they are, they hunt and move shrewdly and silently. One got to within 6 foot of me as I slept. Forest Gump’s Savior was there again. The lion will grab your head just above your neck and snap your neck. Instant death. Then, the lion will drag you off to a safe area or to his Pride (Family) Den.

They will feast on three muscle groups of the human… the buttocks (Gluteus Maximus muscles), the upper leg (Quadriceps muscles) and the back muscles (Trapezius and Latissimus Dorsi muscles). He might snack on your calf muscles before he wanders off. The lion will consume those parts of your anatomy and then leave your carcass to the other scavengers of the African Plains.

Like the Hyenas and meat-eating Storks, that will finish the job, the Hyenas will even eat your bones, crushing them with their powerful jaws for your bone marrow. Of course, don’t forget the ants… as those who have lived in the bush in Africa can never forget the ants. Ants, bloody ants! Damned ANTS! Ants, by themselves, will consume an entire elephant in a week or so.

#9 What’s this all got to do with HyperInflation!?

• What’s this all got to do with HyperInflation!?

• The illusional, fraudulent, imaginary Intelligence Quotient (I.Q.) Like comparing your Kitty Cat to an African Lion.

• Zimbabwe Independence 44 years later

•  

• Stevie Wonder, where are you?

Everything. Race was a major undercurrent in Rhodesia and South Africa’s course of HyperInflation. You must understand the entire background of Rhodesia-Zimbabwe, including the undercurrents of their society, to understand how one of the wealthiest countries on the African Continent could be destroyed and suffer HyperInflation in a few years. Now South Africa is on the same path of destruction.

However, HyperInflation cannot be pointed to race. Whites, Europeans and others the world-round have exhibited the same stupidity and or ignorance in their own country’s HyperInflation dramas. But other countries that had HyperInflation disasters didn’t have the World’s manipulation of the race component and the overtly greedy component of the Communist Leadership of Zimbabwe and South Africa… but stupid just the same.

I don’t know how much the continual robbing of the Zimbabwe Treasury affected this… however it had to have had a decisive effect on the collapse of the Zimbabwe economy.

In Zimbabwe, HyperInflation DID have everything to do with the black African leadership’s economic thought processes, the new leaders believing “Communist Cosmic Economic Nonsense” but more so with their decision to begin endless paper money printing.

The incompetence, corruption and greed of Zimbabwe leadership was way more blatant than that of the United States government and other governments, however United States fiscal management is beginning to show very similar parallels. Massive spending exceeding the money to pay those expenditures.

The use of the Western version Intelligence Quotient measurement for black Africans and many other races and ethnic groups is fraudulent because of their cultures. For one thing, I found that all Africans have much more common sense than Westerners

The false, illusional, fraudulent, imaginary Intelligence Quotient (I.Q.). Like comparing your pet Kitty Cat to an African Lion

Tribes are way more suited to Communist dictatorial rule or strong leader rule than “Democracy” because of the Tribal Elder System of Rule. The blacks and whites of Rhodesia were fat and the vast majority were content. I wouldn’t say all blacks were happy, as some wanted more control of their country. I met extremely intelligent blacks… and butt stupid whites… and vice-versa… butt stupid blacks and extremely intelligent whites.

Again, do the mass of black Africans have a lower I.Q. than others, as Westerners claim they’re not as intellegent? “Wow! The I.Q.! That Western Civilization measurement tool that fits only Westerners by their culture, education, environment and upbringing. The Western I.Q. measurement doesn’t fairly determine intelligence of people of some cultures and societies and is not the measuring stick to use for black Africa. Using the I.Q. tool on Africans and many other cultures and societies gives a false, illusional and a fraudulent, imaginary measurement of intelligence. It’s like comparing your pet Kitty Cat to an African Lion. Westerners have their heads up their arses when it comes to this.

Regardless, white skin gave privileges that a black skin did not have. I found both black and white Africans to have a far elevated level of common sense compared to what Westerners had, even back when I was there.

Zimbabwe Independence 44 years later

You would have to ask blacks and whites in Zimbabwe now about the term “Independence,” as it applies to them. To most of them it now means no freedoms… killings for speaking out, death for voting for the opposition party, jailing’s, torture, starvation, the economy in shambles and that they are far worse off than when the country was Rhodesia under non-Communist majority white control. Anyone who thinks that is racist is a moron considering what has occurred. But that situation was still wrong.

The Western News Media spun stories about the evil Rhodesians, whereas it is proven by their own admissions that the Communists carried out the vast majority of atrocities attributed to white and black Rhodesians. This war was not a civil war as characterized in Western Media or by Western Leftists. It was originated, encouraged, supplied and supported by Communist nations with the cooperation and backing of most of the Western World.

The world wouldn’t wait ten years to let the white and black Rhodesians prepare to run the country. The Leftists and Communists wanted immediate change to Majority Rule. As the saying goes… “Communism loves chaos!” …and they knew chaos drew people to Communism as “a knight in shining armor on a white horse” to bring order again. In this instance, the Communists created the chaos… and chaos has ruled Zimbabwe to this day. Again, infinity printing of paper dollars, not backed by any collateral, was the primary cause of HyperInflation.

Stevie Wonder, where are you?

I WONDER if Stevie Wonder, who performed at their Independence Day ceremony singing the praises of “Zimbabwe,” is as proud now for what Independence has given the blacks and remaining whites. I wonder if he’s proud of the psychopathic leadership of callous corruption and as barbaric evil controllers.

The worst was yet to come, as Stevie Wonder and two other prominent American black entertainers had $250 million dollars stolen from them by the new South African government, when South African leadership solicited money to buy back the Coca Cola rights for South Africa. Their money simply disappeared. You won’t read much about that in the news, either.

#10 How to be found in a remote road ditch with a bullet in the back of your head.

 

• • How to be found in a remote road ditch with a bullet in the back of your head.

• • Death by Association

• • Walking from the jungle into the Garden of Eden

Most wealthy blacks and whites got out. Most blacks and whites left, who could afford to. Most of the commoner whites left with assistance of their Families across the globe. Many of the poor black Africans walked out. The destruction of Zimbabwe was the destruction of almost all small businesses, many of which started over again after the financial collapse in 2008. Many factory owners simply closed their doors and moved to other countries. Their loss… but worse… Zimbabwe’s loss.

Since all this happened, some 15,000 farmers from Zimbabwe and South Africa have moved to Russia by invitation from the Russian government, where the Russians gave them brand new State of the Art farm machinery and vast tracts of land to farm. They needed these farmer’s expertise. Africa’s fatal loss.

My Father-In-Law owned the most sophisticated printing plant on the African Continent, which he bought from a Canadian paper company, that had started it decades previously. Early on when HyperInflation began raging, my Father-In-Law was approached by the Governor of the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe and asked to print the Zimbabwe currency.

Inflation was causing them to issue increasingly larger denominations of dollar bills, which were being printed in Germany by a company specializing in printing the currencies of foreign countries. So, the Governor of the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe and his entourage came in their bullet proof Mercedes stretch limousines. This Governor was one of the most important people in the country and had another twenty or so military and police escort vehicles and cars full of black secret policemen and military bodyguards.

They roared right up to my Father-In-Law’s factory headquarters and took over the entire parking lot. While office staff hid or slipped out the back door in fear and black secretaries nervously shook while serving tea, this Bank Governor made his request. My Father-In-Law’s office was full of the Governor’s assistants and men with automatic weapons. My Father-In-Law was assured by the Bank Governor in this meeting that he would have all the foreign currency he needed to import paper, ink and equipment.

My Father-In-Law was no one’s fool and concocted a story to discourage the Governor from employing them, stating that his printing machinery could not print currency. He told the Governor that he needed time to research this. He made his calls to Europe and England for equipment. About a week later he called Reserve Bank and told the Governor that it would take a little over a year to have equipment manufactured, imported and installed.

That would cost some ten million English Pounds (about eighteen million U.S. Dollars) to set the factory up to do this and would need priority allotment for building materials and labor to add on space to his factory to house this new machinery. In reality, my Father-In-Law probably could have done it with the equipment he had but that this was his death sentence if he began printing currency.

I congratulated him on this on his next visit to our home in the United States. As he explained to me… The Communist leadership would simply make him disappear and take over the factory. He sweat it out for some time, shrewdly calling to the Governor repeatedly for approval, which was ignored because of the time and cost he’d informed them of earlier.

So, approval by the Reserve Bank of Zimbabwe never came. But my Father-In-Law appeared that he wanted the job by his persistence and perceived enthusiasm. At least he wasn’t found with a bullet in his head in some remote rural road ditch, like others had when their businesses came to be the focus of government as “critical” to their needs.

Death by Association

My Wife’s black African nanny Martha, a wonderful woman in her 50s who raised my Wife through puberty and on into adulthood, was as much a Mother to her and in some ways, more so, than my Wife’s birth Mother. Martha was my Wife’s trusted confidant about the young men she was going out with. She was a beautiful, actually gorgeous and wonderful African woman who lived in their home and whom I took to just as much as my Wife’s biological Mother. She apparently approved of me.

Martha was from the Bindura Mine area we stumbled into as you’ll read next. Amongst other things, she taught my Wife to drive a car and my Wife learned all about the “birds and the bees” from Martha. Sadly, she was hideously killed by the Communist Cockroaches when she went back to visit her Tribal village. All for being in the employ of a white African Family.

Walking from the jungle into the Garden of Eden

Look up the word “Surreal” …because this is what I felt. Like we went from one world to another through a wormhole in time. Transported from one place to another entirely different place by “Scotty,” of the Star Ship Enterprise. I led 16 men on a ‘bush triangulation and survive-off-the-land” forced march through Rhodesia after being part of the 17 out of 66 who made the Commando cut… the 24-Hour Rev. Think of revving an engine and the same done to you physically for 24 hours straight. Night and day relentless running, sit ups, “duck walking,” pull ups with a 5-minute break each hour… then starting over again with a heavier pack full of rocks.

For the life of me, I remember few places and when I was there. Since African names of areas and cities that I couldn’t spell escaped me. This ‘where’ was an exception. Bindura. Since the seasons are reversed there as it’s in the Southern Hemisphere… the heat of July and August in the United States is the opposite… that’s the coldest months of Rhodesia’s “Winter” is so mild you can’t tell it from Summer. Just a trivia note… the toilets swirl the opposite way down there than up here on the north half of the planet.

At one place on this forced march, we stood in line taking turns whacking and hacking through thick green growth. We’d probably chopped our way over some 300 meters, which was through almost impenetrable jungle for miles in all directions, but was our path of travel. I was about to order everyone to turn around and go back to where we started in an attempt to circumvent this mess. Just then, one of my men came back down the line and said… “Hey Jack, you’ve got to see this!”

As I got to the head of the line I stopped and stared in shock. It looked like we’d stumbled into “The Garden of Eden.” Almost Biblical looking. After traversing 35 some miles up and down over and around the mountainous areas, rivers and chopping through this jungle… at about 5 PM, we’d ended up stumbling into the beautifully mowed and manicured lawn of a mansion. It was the back lawn of the American Bindura Chrome Mine Manger’s residence.

I don’t remember his name, as our black African batman stole my black zipper address book my last months in Africa, thinking there was something valuable in it. Good thing he did… I owe him. If he hadn’t, this adrenaline junkie’s bones would be bleaching in the African sun. As we emerged from the jungle on to this lawn, we scared the crap out of everyone at the house and the mine. No guards posted there, as what we had chopped our way through was deemed “impenetrable.”

 

We were camouflaged, sweat-streaked camo creamed from head to toe and armed to the teeth. Alerted, the manager showed up with a phalanx of trigger-finger nervous guards. Seeing we were white under all that camouflage and not terrorists, he invited us to his backyard veranda for “Rhodesian Refreshments.” Beer and what the Rhodesian made and called Bol’s Brandy… a Rhodesian drink version of gasoline. It tastes amazingly similar to what gasoline smells like. It will waste you.

The Mine Manager was an American employed by the Rio Tinto Mining Corporation out of Texas and he was a real Texan American… cowboy hat, drawl and all… smack dab in the middle of Africa. This was also surreal. He was astonished and amazed at us showing up. More so with me being the only American of my group and in the Rhodesian Commandos. The Mine Manager had endless questions for me, an anomaly American, from the Midwest.

The rest of my… hungry-for-days-and-eating-like-voracious-swine… Commando Troopers ate Boerewors (Farmer’s Sausage as in the photo) that he had immediately cooked for them. I was such a curiosity to him, that he took me on a tour of the mines in his Landrover, black African guards in the back armed to the teeth. He also admitted to me that I was the first American he’d seen in these parts for a couple of years and missed the American accent, not that his Texan accent was mainstream American dialect. However, I could tell he missed the States.

Impressive to say the least. I still have a “mental snapshot” of riding with him down a mine road as the sun was setting and the road surface glittered like diamonds. A beautiful sight I will always remember. I asked the manager… “What is that sparkling in the sun on the road?” He said… “Chrome ore… it’s cheaper to gravel the roads with chrome ore than to haul in gravel.” Under rows and rows of sun shade tin roofs, thousands of Chrome Ingots were stored, each of them probably weighing a hundred pounds each.

I asked him where they were destined for. His answer was vague but he insinuated Eastern Europe, which was communist then. I know from other sources since, that they were sold “under the counter” to other countries as the “source” country of procurement and then to the United States, UN Sanctions prohibiting them going directly to the United States from Rhodesia. It is interesting that before the Rhodesian War began, the Rothschilds, who owned the Rio Tinto Mining Company… divested of it. Epiphany?

Needless to say, exhausted, dehydrated and having all the alcohol we could drink… the alcohol in combination with the dehydration along with the food, wasted us all by midnight. During that evening, I had to remind a couple of our guys to put a lid on the comments about this guy’s beautiful Wife. To behave, which they did, from not only my words but the scowls and words of others who weren’t letting the alcohol run their ‘Willys,’ thoughts and mouths and were respectful and thankful for the meal and alcohol.

 

 

I asked the manager if he’d post his security people as I knew every one of my guys who would be on guard duty would go to sleep, as we spread out on the lawn and veranda, exhausted, and slept. I suspected the Terrorist knew we were around and had come in the way we did, which jungle would grow shut in a month or two.

The next day, swearing all to secrecy, including the mine manager, because of the detour from our “Surviving on Bugs, Berries and Bark” while on an endurance march, we thanked this American and carried on. God forbid our instructors would learn of it, which they did, but months after our training was over and we were out of Cranborne Barracks Commando Training Center. Nothing they could do then… but they certainly would have F’d us over at the time, those sadists.

Toying with us, like getting stone drunk one night we camped at an army shooting range. With a Browning 1919 model air cooled .303 caliber machine gun mounted on a Unimog military truck, the four of them made us take turns running the length of an 800-meter shooting range while they saw how close they could get shooting at us with this machine gun.

While shooting at us, they calmly and methodically discussed how artfully we were dodging and running and then chuckled at us weaving and diving behind the slopped berms. While they fired bursts at the poor SOB who was running, the rest of us stood at attention at the side of the truck awaiting our turn. That went on for over two hours until they all passed out drunk. I am still in awe of the odds, despite the fact that these Instructors were the cream of the crop and all expert marksmen, that they didn’t hit one of us after firing a good 500 rounds while the sun set that evening.

I was damned proud of my guys as we completed this 120-mile triangular march through the African bush and got to within 200 meters of our pickup point at 20 minutes prior to pick up time. But I had good guys in my group. Just with a compass and by the Southern Constellations, which was taught in theory in our land navigation class, but which I miraculously used the last few dark hours to the disbelief of our Instructors, waiting in the truck to fetch us. By Gosh and By Golly!

The fact that I had an airplane pilot’s license before going to Africa gave me an enormous edge in reading topographical maps, navigating and using a compass to “shoot azimuths.” Regardless, my Commando Instructors thought they had a rocket scientist or miracle man in their midst, especially after I made my “precision direction determination” the last few dark hours of our nighttime trek by reading the stars.

So, they heaped more responsibility on me… those alcoholic, sadistic, lazy and idle slackers. What brutality they couldn’t conceive of, an Israeli Commando Instructor came up with. I must admit… I later had a fondness for our Instructors… some of the finest soldiers I’ve ever met. I would go into the shytte with them even now. The other two groups of 40 some Commandos total missed the meeting point and had to get back to civilization hitchhiking and walking. But my group and me… were considered all-stars.

Conclusion

Zimbabwe and South Africa are now “Paradise Lost.” That may sound superficial coming from a American who lived and experienced Africa in countries where race mostly determined your fortune… and mine was white. You go right ahead and think that. But the fact of transitional control being given time and to both black and white Africans… the real paradise it could have become will never be known. It’s as if by comparison, Zimbabwe’s wealth was that of a street corner drug dealer… but South Africa’s wealth was that of the high-level drug distributor. Both amounts of wealth mostly gone now and the countries in shambles.

This is a riddle probably as old or older than written recorded time… “What’s worse? Well-fed and generally content people in an abundant country with a society segregated by race… or people starving in a country destroyed by a greedy and corrupt tyranny, who hold themselves superior to the people and have segregated themselves from the people by their arrogance, control, theft and brutality?”

Answer that quandary. I don’t like either answer.

Unless Africa rises from the ashes of their destroyed societies and is reformed by responsible white and black Africans, which will probably never happen, it is the only hope for those countries. The shame is that white Africans, who were left living in the colonies in their predicament by the Clique of Elitists who controlled the colonies, were excluded by them from the future of “Independence” by Majority Rule.

I think of the statement that there is… “Honor Amongst Thieves” but that doesn’t apply to the black leadership in most of Africa now. That leadership has little honor or concern to show towards their people. The struggle in Africa between the Super Powers of the West and Soviet-Chinese Communists during the “Cold War” confrontation of skirmishes like took place in Rhodesia is over. Replaced now by foreign countries and the International Corporate World that continues on its course of paying whomever necessary in control, to get what they want from Africa at “Yesterday’s Prices,” regardless of the character and actions of those in power in Africa they pay or the suffering it causes the people of Africa.

The International Community will continue to bail out Africa as the world’s corporations, countries and the leadership continues to rob the African Continent and its people. Those images of starving malnourished children still burn in my memory. Saucer sized eyes with a “thousand-yard stare” looking in desperation to you for life. I see photos of black Africans too weak to walk it depresses the hell out of me. Heart breaking.

Trillions in aid will be shipped to Africa but will end up in the boneyard of help. When Tribal infighting, once controlled by the white Africans who lived in these countries, is now rampant again. Such is the “Order by Chaos” of Africa. Amazing, the hatred I saw between different Tribes whose people all looked the same to me, but look to each other as different as an Oriental looks to a Caucasian. The only way you can tell is by their Tribal skin cut markings.

Ten years after the Zimbabwe “Independence” South Africans could see which way South Africa would go after they were given their “Independence.” My former troop Commander, the Late Captain Vernon Prinsloo, told me the following a few years ago about where he lived in Cape Town, South Africa. I summarize what he told me about the complex, twisted but efficient embezzlement process of the leadership…

“Well, whatever corruption the whites of South Africa had, it was hidden and it wasn’t bringing the roof down on the house. Now, it’s out in the open and destroying everything. The blacks are stealing all of the maintenance money for the electrical power plants and we’re having “brown outs” or no power for two or three days. They continue these millions for years. Then, a power plant that should last 40 years, is destroyed in less than a decade. The Germans are brought in and build a new power plant for 5 billion dollars… 1 billion going into the leadership’s pockets.”

Rhodesian Army “Selous Scout” Tim Bax, Author of “Three Sips of Gin” and “Who Will Teach the Wisdom,” From Tim Bax…

“Some time ago, I was paging through a journal I kept during the war and which became the genesis of my book, “Who Will Teach the Wisdom.” In it, I came across an entry made while I was on operations in Mozambique in 1974. They were words spoken by an old villager we were using as a guide. He later died of wounds sustained when we were ambushed by Frelimo.”

“I had asked him one night if he thought the future might hold peace. His response is paraphrased in my journal. It reads: “Africa belongs to the Hyenas. They have temporarily been driven into the shadows but it is to the Hyenas that Africa shall return”. Perhaps he knew then what we are yet to know. I fervently hope not, for the sake of my friends – black and white.”

Excellent books… from an Extraordinary Author

Fading Memories

I hope you read with interest this personal glimpse into distant lands and times past and what I experienced with HyperInflation through stories by which I try to inform and entertain you… from moments that are fading from my memory… “Like tear drops in the rain.”

My Termini…

Jack Lawson

Member, Sully H. deFontaine Special Forces Association Chapter 51, Las Vegas, Nevada

Author of the “Civil Defense Manual,” “The Slaver’s Wheel,” “A Failure of Civility,” “And We Hide From The Devil” and “In Defense.” Go to www.CivilDefenseManual.com

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I’ve watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. Those moments will be lost in time… like tears in rain.” – Rutger Hauer in his “Time to die” scene from the movie “Blade Runner”

In my memories are the above in a figurative sense… the below in the literal reality of my past… 

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe. The moonlit landscape of Zambia I parachuted into at two o’clock in the morning with 40 pounds of explosives in my drop pack on an “external,” a raid on a Communist Terrorist camp where we were outnumbered over 100 to 1.

I’ve watched a frightened, but still majestic and graceful family of giraffes gallop the African bush as I hung out the door of a helicopter, flying by them at treetop level, almost close enough to touch them.

I’ve battled it out with Communist terrorists mano a mano while neck deep in crocodile infested idle waters on the banks and sandbars of the Hond’e and Limpopo Rivers in Mozambique. My Friends and Africa long gone and these moments lost in time and fading from my memory… like tears in the rain.”

From Jack Lawson… an American in 1RLI Support Commando and attached to Rhodesian “C Squadron” SAS Africa 1976-79

BUCKLE UP AMERICA AND THE WORLD… a rough ride is coming!

Click the link below to see… “What’s in the Civil Defense Manual?”

https://civildefensemanual.com/whats-in-the-civil-defense-manual/ …and go to JackLawsonBooks.Substack.com

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