L for Landmines

one of the most deadly legacies of 20th century warfare


This has not been an easy post to write. It is a subject that has lain buried in the recesses of my mind for the past 30 years. It is also a subject that is receiving a lot of attention world wide and is one that will continue to haunt the world for a long time to come. I do not look back on the Rhodesia/ Zimbabwe bush war as the glory years as some people do. I look back on it with sadness, because of the senseless loss of so many lives - for what………?

Today I want to share a few of my experiences during those dark years, to convey something of the horror of landmines and the lasting effect they can have on one’s life.

I was called up for compulsory military service in 1973 and it was during my basic training that I was first made aware of the use landmines in warfare. We were shown what was left of vehicles that had been blown up by land mines, to impress upon us the deadly effect of these weapons, and to ensure that we would always be on the alert for them. We were then taught how to find land mines, how to remove them and how to defuse them.


Note the sandbags in the back of the truck. They were used to absorb the shock and blast from a landmine explosion


When we went to the operational area, only two of our vehicles struck landmines. They had fortunately been mine–proofed, so there were no casualties. Sand bags in the bed of the truck were impenetrable. On both occasions I heard the dull thud of the explosions. The one was shortly after my section had been dropped off on patrol. The truck struck the mine on the return trip – we had missed it on the way in. It was a terrible feeling waiting to hear whether your mates were still alive and a great relief to hear that they were.

After I was demobilized my hopes of returning to civilian life were dashed, as I was posted back to the same operational area, where I had my last tour of duty with the army. I was employed by the Ministry of Internal Affairs and was part of a team assigned to set up a new administrative district called Rushinga, near Mt Darwin. The area was wild and undeveloped in those days and I knew what the conditions were like and what to expect.

Traveling along those roads during the war years was quite hair raising. There were constant reminders of the threat from landmines – either unfilled craters caused by the blast or the remains of vehicles.




One of the stark reminders of the ever present threat of landmines - February 1974 near Mt Darwin. Note the water filled crater in the bottom right corner, caused by a land mine blast.

We took it all in our stride - on the one hand we were young and had no sense of our mortality, but on the other we were realistic enough to know that we needed to keep alert at all times.

Another view of the same truck. Note the ruptured fuel tank. These two guys, I was told, were both killed in action a few years later.

My colleague, Mike Shalovsky and I drove around in an unprotected Land Rover for several weeks, which was a very foolish thing to do. I had seen what had happened to a Land Rover that hit a landmine on that very road - it was the one shown to us during my military training. On one of our trips to Mt Darwn, I still clearly remember passing a military convoy and five minutes later we were called on the radio and told to stop, so that the road could be swept for mines. One of the trucks we passed had just hit a landmine. It could have been us - if we had hit it we would not have survived. (Mike, I leant this year, was killed a few years later when the vehicle he was traveling in collided another vehicle that had just hit a landmine at night).

After that incident we refused to travel in unprotected vehicles.

Our newly mine-proofed Land Rover at the Mazoe River - January 1974. We soon removed the doors as they became a hinderance if we needed to get out in a hurry.

I left Rushinga in March 1974 to go to university, as a serving officer with the Ministry of Internal Affairs. It was a nice respite from the war, but I spent my vacations in the operational area, mainly because the Department needed the manpower and because our pay was boosted with danger money.

In 1974 and 1975 I spent three vacations at Chiweshe, near Concession. Much to the annoyance of the District Commissioner I took my car into the operational area on the second stint, so that I could have “wheels”. I was young and foolish and liked to break the rules. On my next stint I left my car at home, after being told of a young guy who had been killed in a landmine explosion, near to where I was posted.

At the end of 1975 I was posted to Mt Darwin and was sent to a number of outlying outposts, eventually ending up at a base camp at the Karanda Mission Hospital. The war was hotting up at the time and much happened in my last two months that I may write about later.


Christmas Day 1975 at Pachanza, Mt Darwin district. Our "keep" was flooded and we had to breach the protective wall to drain the water. The vehicle on the right was a "Rhino". Essentially a protective capsule built on a Land Rover chassis.

Towards the end of February 1976 I was due to return to university. I made the arrangements to leave, then announced to all and sundry that I would be departing the next morning. I was told late that afternoon that my replacement would only be arriving in two days time and was quite peeved that I had to stay on a few more days.

The next morning about an hour after I was meant to travel on that particular road we heard the land mine explosion - it was a civilian bus. I am convinced to this day that the mine was meant for me. As I traveled in a mine-proofed vehicle (Rhino) I would probably have survived, even though the mine had been boosted. Many of the occupants of the bus were not that fortunate. I saw the aftermath when the casualties were brought to the hospital - civilians trying to live out their lives being senselessly killed and maimed.


Mine field on the border between the Rhodesia/ Zimbabwe and Mozambique borders taken near Mkumbura in the Zambezi Valley on Christmas Day 1975.

In 1976 I met Sue and stopped going to the operational area during my vacations.

My next experience with landmines was in 1977 in Mtoko, where I was working as a District Officer, after graduating. I was married then and Sue was expecting our first child. Most days were spent in the operational area and I now had a different perspective on life. When I left for work in the morning there was always the chance that I would not come home alive. I made sure that I kept to the safety rules. I always traveled in a mine-proofed vehicle (Leopard); I only traveled in convoy and stuck rigidly to the speed limits – no more risk taking for me.

One morning I was due to go on the monthly pay run (no internet banking in those days) and my trip was delayed, much to my annoyance, as my colleague arrived late after a weekend of carousing in Salisbury. Shortly before he arrived the news came over the radio that two nurses going out to attend to a measles epidemic had hit a mine. Another case of unintended victims - fortunately they survived, but their field work did not.


Me and my black Labrador, Cindy, standing in the back of a "Leopard". It was a very succesful mine-proof vehicle built in sections. It you hit a landmine all you had to do was bolt the replacement section back on.

In my mind I can still hear the dull thud of a landmine exploding. I can still remember the sick feeling of waiting to hear who it was and if they survived. In the early days of the war our vehicles were not mine proofed. When they were the chances of survival were good, as long as you kept to the rules. I know one fellow who hit three mines in two weeks and still wanted to go back for more.

I knew many people who were killed and maimed in that war – family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances – many were blown up by land mines. I remember them as people – I still remember their faces and the times we had together laughing and joking or discussing our fears and our dreams. I remember the men cut down in their prime, men who never got to see their children grow up; men, some still boys, senselessly killed in a war that should never have been allowed to happen. I remember the pain of their families. Those memories will remain with me for as long as I live.

Aside from the physical and psychological damage they cause, landmines continue to have tragic, unintended consequences years after a war has ended. As time passes, the location of landmines is often forgotten, even by those who planted them. These mines continue to be functional for a long time afterwards, causing more damage, injury and death. (Just do a Google search to see what I mean.)

Many countries have signed a pact to ban the use of landmines, while others still continue to use them. I believe that it is time for all nations to stand together and call for a total ban on the manufacture and use of these awful weapons.