hist2004
05-12-2004, 12:48 PM
How Washington Lost its Nerve and how the Cubans subdued Angola
by Robert Moss
How Fidel Castro's 15,000 Cuban invaders of Angola, armed by Russia, won a victory by default over the anti-Communist forces is told in detail for the first time in an exhaustive study, which begins on this page today, of this largely secret war.
The author, Robert Moss, shows that the United States, having begged South Africa to put troops in to offset the Communist intervention, lost its nerve and failed to stop the great build-up of men, guns and aircraft from across the seas, which had started, trucked right across the African continent, way back in 1964.
The Russians' motives were far from ideological. They were after oil, diamonds, minerals - and naval bases.
Only now, when the war is nominally over but guerrilla resistance continues, does the truth of this extraordinary adventure begin to emerge.
The pro-Communist forces outnumbered the anti-Communists by 10 to 1 in weaponry. Ten times as many Cubans as South Africans went in. But it was failure of will which determined the issue in the end.
New details gathered in South Africa, Washington, Barbados, Lisbon, Paris, Madrid, Jerusalem and the States neighbouring Angola show how the plot was hatched, the war fought and the political capitulation of the West ensured. The captured diary of a Cuban soldier vividly recreates what it was like for these interlopers in a black civil war.
On the morning of October 7, 1975, a company of teenage soldiers from Jonas Savimbi's anti- Soviet UNITA movement was heading west through central Angola. The men belonged to one of three black guerrilla movements which had been promised a share in Angola's independence from Portugal, then only a month away. Their mission was to intercept a column of pro-Soviet MPLA forces that was reported to be striking east towards Nova Lisboa, Angola's second biggest city.
The UNITA (National Union for the Total Independence of Angola) column had started out from its base in Silva Porto with two old Panhard armoured cars (a gift from President Mobutu of Zaire) but one had broken down along the way. Its other weaponry was not impressive: three jeep-mounted anti-tank missile launchers, two 106mm recoilless guns, and four .50 Browning machine-guns. But at this stage that was virtually the full inventory of UNITA's hardware.
The column included 14 South African infantry instructors acting as advisers, led by a major. They were tough professionals who had volunteered to go to the aid of UNITA in what had so far been a losing battle against superior Soviet-supplied weapons. They wore UNITA uniforms.
Some four-and-a-half miles outside the village of Norton de Matos, the little column reached a bridge. Scouts were sent forward, and reported that the enemy was not in sight. But then a spotter plane appeared overhead, and one of the black soldiers opened up on it with a machine-gun. This was the signal for all hell to break loose. From over the brow of the hills beyond the river the concealed MPLA (Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola) forces opened up with recoilless guns, light artillery, air-burst mortars - and five Soviet-built T-34 tanks with Cuban crews joined in.
The South African major's jeep was knocked out from under him by an armour-piercing projectile from one of the tanks, but he escaped uninjured. UNITA's young soldiers - who had had only two weeks to prepare them for war - scattered in confusion. But UNITA's solitary armoured car, commanded by a South African lieutenant, swung forward and lobbed a 90mm shell into one of the Soviet tanks, which disappeared in flames. The South Africans managed to knock out a second tank with one of UNITA's 106mm guns. After this the other three Soviet tanks pulled back.
While the enemy mortars kept up an intensive fire, the South Africans, ducking and weaving, slammed six anti-tank missiles towards the hidden positions, without any certainty of hitting anything. But a UNITA patrol subsequently claimed that 116 of the enemy had been killed. There were no South African casualties.
This skirmish at an obscure spot in central Angola (never before reported) was the first armed confrontation between the Cubans and the South Africans, the prelude to an extraordinary war in which one of the most brazen land-grabs that the Russians and their satellites have attempted proved to be successful - not because of victory on the battlefield, but because of the political failure of the United States to deliver sufficient support to the anti-Soviet guerrillas.
The Communist invasion of Angola is one of the most decisive, and most sombre, turning- points in the whole period since 1945. It is the story of how more than 15,000 troops from a sugar-cane republic in the Caribbean were transported 6,000 miles across the Atlantic to serve as the Gurkhas of the Soviet Empire, and how a pro-Communist Government in Lisbon, and a number of Third World Governments, smoothed the way for that invasion.
It is also the story of how the South Africans - supposedly pariahs - were begged by the United States and by moderate black African leaders to put troops into Angola to offset the Communist intervention. By the end of a lightning armoured offensive the South Africans came within a hair's breadth of securing a total military victory for the anti-Communist black movements of Angola. Why that victory was thrown away is the most complex story of all. But the most damning factor was the failure of nerve in Washington.
In an age of televised battles, the war for Angola was a remarkably secret war, and the truth of what happened is only slowly beginning to seep out. The Cubans have just produced their authorised version, in the form of a book-length article published by the Colombian novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the Mexican magazine Progreso. In the midst of a wealth of factual detail, his account is littered with distortions and plain untruths.
For example, Garcia Marquez states that the decision to send Cuban combat soldiers into Angola was taken on November 5, 1975. But Cuban troops were on the battlefield months before then. He gives the impression of a triumphal Cuban march to the south in the early months of 1976, but does not mention that it took the Cubans more than two months to occupy the territory that the South Africans vacated after they took the political decision to withdraw.
But there are two basic truths in the Garcia Marquez account. The first is that the Cuban invasion was encouraged by the belief that the Americans, after Vietnam, Watergate and the witch-hunt against the CIA, were in no shape to respond effectively to Communist aggression. The second is that the Cubans were confident that, if they ran into real trouble, their Russian sponsors would not allow them to fail.
Plundering Tiger and her savage cubs
It was a war of camouflage. Both the Cubans and the South Africans went into Angola at the outset wearing civilian clothes or other people's uniforms. Cuban volunteers (such as the three wounded prisoners who were taken to South Africa for medical treatment) were told that they were being sent to work on a building project, or to undergo a a political training course in Russia. The first South African instructors with UNITA were ordered to talk only in English and to describe themselves, if asked, as English.
I cannot profess to write the secret history of the Angola war in full, but this narrative (based on authoritative sources in several non-Communist countries) will tell a great deal that has never been told before. First, there is the Communist invasion of Angola and how it was achieved; then the course of the war, including the battle for Luanda, the capital; and then the United States' capitulation, which has brought, in President Kaunda's chilling phrase, a "plundering tiger and her savage cubs" to the gates of Rhodesia, South Africa, and the moderate black African States.
The Russians had been deeply involved in Angola since the early 1960s. In 1956 the rigidly pro-Soviet Portuguese Communist Party had helped to found the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola, in which Dr. Agostinho Neto - a mulatto who had helped to set up a clandestine Communist group during his student days in Oporto - emerged as the dominant figure. In the early 1960s the MPLA established its first contacts with the Cubans, who were helping to run a training camp for African guerrillas at Dolisie in Congo-Brazzaville. A number of MPLA cadres also received training in Cuba during this period.
In 1964 the Portuguese Communist leader Alvaro Cunhal set up a meeting for Agostinho Neto with the Soviet leaders in Moscow. This was the trigger for a more ambitious Soviet support programme. The Russians began shipping consignments of arms and food to Dar-es- Salaam, from where they were trucked to the MPLA via Zambia. Soviet merchant vessels laden with small arms, AK-47 rifles, RPG-7 rocket launchers, and mortars became a familiar sight in Tanzanian waters. The Russians also began doling out a cash subsidy ranging between $150,000 and $300,000 a year.
Most significant, perhaps, the Russians began to receive a regular intake of MPLA recruits for training at the Institute of Marxism-Leninism (for aspiring commissars), at the army camp at Simferopol in the Ukraine (for rank-and-file soldiers), and at the Frunzi military college (for officer material). One of the graduates of Frunzi was Iko Carreira who, as the MPLA's Minister of Defence, was to play a critical role in the secret talks that led to the Cuban invasion of Angola.
Soviet aid to the MPLA diminished between 1972 and 1974, apparently as a result of the movement's miserable performance in guerrilla operations against the Portuguese. There was a sharp renewal of interest in the MPLA, however, just before the coup in Lisbon on April 25, 1974, that set the scene for the decolonisation of Portuguese Africa.
The Portuguese Communists were deeply involved in the coup, and the Russians had at least six weeks' forewarning of it. But for the Russians the key strategic objective was not Portugal itself, but Portugal's African possessions - above all Angola, rich in oil, diamonds and other minerals, and occupying a vital geopolitical position. UNITA sources have claimed that as early as 1969 the Russians concluded a secret treaty with the MPLA leader Neto under which they undertook to guarantee continued support in return for a pledge that, if the MPLA succeeded, it would allow Russia to set up naval bases in Angola.
The Portuguese announced their plans for decolonisation in August, 1974. In the second half of that year, the Russians shipped arms valued at $6 million to the MPLA via Dar-es-Salaam. They also opened up a new route for arms deliveries via Congo-Brazzaville. Weapons were either shipped to the Congolese port of Pointe Noire, and then smuggled into the Cabinda enclave by truck, or flown into the Maya Maya air base, outside Brazzaville, and ferried into Angola by small vessels plying the deserted north-western coast or by small cargo planes.
At this stage, the Portuguese High Commissioner in Angola was Admiral Rosa Coutinho, the "Red Admiral", notorious for his pro-MPLA sympathies. Sources close to the leaders of the rival National Front for the Liberation of Angola (FNLA) claimed that the bitter hostility that Rosa Coutinho displayed towards the FNLA and its leader, Holden Roberto, was connected with the indignities inflicted on him when, as a young colonial army officer based at Santo Antonio de Zaire, he was captured by FNLA troops and imprisoned in Kinshasa for six months. Holden Roberto's brother-in-law is President Mobutu of Zaire.
Rocket Launchers for the MPLA
Whatever the explanation, Rosa Coutinho made no attempt to curb the delivery of Soviet-bloc weapons to the MPLA after he was appointed High Commissioner in 1974. His immediate successor, Air Force General Silva Cardoso, was less partisan. In April, 1975, he stopped a Yugoslav vessel from unloading its full cargo of arms in Luanda harbour, but the rest of the cargo got through, smuggled by fishing vessels and Soviet-made landing craft from Pointe Noire.
It fell to General Silva Cardoso (who was abruptly sacked in July, on the pretext of "physical and psychological exhaustion") to preside over the disintegration of the political formula for Angola's future that had been agreed on at a conference at Alvor in Portugal and signed on January 15, 1975. The three Angolan guerrilla movements were to have striven in a transitional Government to prepare for a general election on October 30, and independence on November 11. They were also supposed to provide 8,000 men each for a national defence force.
But the MPLA and its backers had no intention of sharing power with anyone, still less of holding general elections in which UNITA - because of its political base among the Ovimbundu peoples, the largest ethnic group in the country - would almost certainly have swept the board. Between April and August, 1975, Soviet-bloc arms flowed in through the ports of Luanda, Dar-es-Salaam and Pointe Noire, and the Russians also embarked on a major airlift of arms by Soviet military transports landing in Brazzaville.
The MPLA was being equipped for conventional war with rocket-launchers and with T-54 and T-34 tanks and field artillery. In contrast the FNLA and UNITA were still equipped with sidearms and little else. Although the CIA was authorised to spend $300,000 in covert support for the FNLA in January, 1975, supplies started to trickle through in significant quantities only in July - partly the result of holdups in Kinshasa, where the local officials are not famed for their efficiency or incorruptibility.
But it was no good supplying weapons without teaching the MPLA how to use them. In December, 1974, a large contingent of MPLA officers and NCOs had been flown to Russia for intensive training. But early in 1975 a more momentous decision was taken: to put Cuban instructors into Angola.
Cuba's Deputy Foreign Minister, Carlos Rafael Rodriguez, publicly admitted (in a speech in December, 1975) that there were already 230 Cuban military instructors in the MPLA in the spring of 1975. Some may have been transferred around this time to the fort of Massangano. On July 25 another 50 Cubans arrived by plane in Brazzaville to help assemble arms stocked at Pointe Noire.
Left-wing Portuguese officers who had visited Havana in July had undertaken (according to the Garcia Marquez version) to secure formal Portuguese approval for Cuban aid to the MPLA. In August the MPLA Defence Minister, Iko Carreira, visited Moscow and asked for Soviet troops to support his movement. The Russians immediately rejected his request, no doubt fearing American intervention, but it was suggested to Carreira that he should put the same request to the Cubans. Soon afterwards Carreira met three senior Cuban advisers in Luanda, and it became their task to sound out Castro.
Despite the involvement of the Cubans in other parts of Africa, the Middle East and the Caribbean, some well-placed Western sources believe that Castro did not immediately become fired with enthusiasm for this new prospect of ideological derring-do. His main fear was that the Americans would retaliate - possibly by direct action, or at least by a blockade, against Cuba. The pitiful state of the Cuban economy and the slender defence budget (a nominal $300 million a year) might have been another disincentive. But the Russians made it clear that they would be footing the bills, and are said to have offered secret assurances that they would enter the Angolan conflict directly in the event of American intervention.
At the same time, a series of radical black African Governments, including Guinea-Bissau, Guinea-Conakry, Mozambique, and the Congo-Brazzaville, plus Algeria, pressed Castro to send in troops.
First move made by the Cubans
Western intelligence sources believe that Castro had already decided on the full-scale invasion before Oscar Oramas, one of the Cuban advisers who had been to Luanda, met him in Havana in the last week of August to warn him of the possibility that the South Africans - who had kept closely in touch with both the FNLA and UNITA behind the scenes - might eventually step in on the side of the rival movements. In any event, the fact that the decision to commit Cuban troops to a combat role was taken long before November 5 (the date given by Garcia Marquez) is demonstrated by the course of events over the following weeks. Cuban troops went into battle in Angola two months in advance of the South Africans.
On August 16, 200 more Cuban instructors reached Luanda, where the MPLA was now in uncontested control. During August UNITA sources reported that some of the Cubans transferred south to Lobito and Benguela, where the Cubans established a training camp and a supply base. In the bitter fighting in which the MPLA seized control of Lobito, a traditional UNITA stronghold, that same month, "yellow-faced men who spoke Spanish" are said to have fought with the MPLA. In September, on the northern front, the FNLA found the bodies of two Cubans in a burned-out armoured car.
From late September, the arrival of Cuban troops steadily accelerated. As with the arms shipments, Congo-Brazzaville was the key transhipment point. President Marien Ngouabi was promised his reward for services rendered when he visited Havana in mid-September. Fidel Castro promised him some expensive military assistance, including the gift of six Soviet-built patrol boats (the Congo republic had only two), Soviet MiG fighters, and training in Cuba for Congolese commandos.
Pilots for the Soviet fighters
At Pointe Noire, war supplies were already being landed, stored and trans-shipped. On September 25 the Cuban vessel Vietnam Heroico docked at Pointe Noire with 20 armoured vehicles, 30 army trucks and 120 Cuban soldiers. On October 5 another Cuban ship, the Cerro Palado, docked with another 350 troops, who were taken by plane to the northern front.
Then La Playa de Habana docked on October 12 with another 500 troops. The previous day 270 Cubans, including pilots, had reached Brazzaville by air. On October 14 a Cuban Communist Party delegation turned up in Brazzaville and assured the MPLA that Cuba would provide the pilots to fly the MiG-21s and MiG-17s that were being supplied by Russia. That was the day that a South African armoured column crossed the Angolan border from its base headquarters at Runtu.
On October 16, Russian transport aircraft landed another 800 Cuban soldiers at Brazzaville. These and subsequent Soviet flights made use of landing rights at Algiers and Conakry. On October 18 and 19 the 500 Cubans who had sailed in La Playa de Habana were flown to Angola in Soviet military planes. The following day another 750 Cubans were landed at Novo Redondo, south of Luanda, by coastal vessels. On October 26, 160 Cubans landed at the Maya Maya air base and left the same day for Angola.
As Castro's men continued to arrive, the quantity and quality of the Soviet war material shipped to Pointe Noire increased spectacularly: MiG-21 jet fighters in parts (to be assembled in Congo-Brazzaville), tanks, armoured vehicles, rocket launchers and small arms. Many of these weapons were transferred to huge arms depots set up inside Angola, at Porto Amboin and Quicama, ready to be used by the Cuban reinforcements as they came in.
By Angola's independence day, November 11, there were at least 4,000 Cuban troops based in Angola. Some 2,500 of them were stationed in Luanda and on the Quifangondo front, where their presence enabled the MPLA to fight off the FNLA's drive towards the capital. Hence it is nonsense to make out that Cuba's decision to send in major combat units was taken only in early November, after South Africa's intervention.
In the two months after independence the strength of the Cuban forces in Angola was increased to over 15,000. Some of the troops came from the special infantry of the Interior Ministry (the equivalent of the KGB's special troops, who are experts in internal repression), but more were "volunteers", drawn from the ranks of former national servicemen, who were offered substantial pay increases to make the trip. Not everyone was told that he was going to war.
Sergeant Esequiel Mustelier, a 23-year old small farmer from Oriente province, who was captured by the South Africans in the Cariango area on December 10, claimed that he had left Angola on what he believed to be a peaceful mission, to build schools in Angola.
Carlos Maru Mesa, and Roberto Morales Bellma, taken prisoner on December 12, claimed they had left Cuba believing that they were being sent on a political course in Russia.
The Barbadian Connection
How did the Cuban troop-planes get to Angola? The favourite refuelling point for the Russian-made Ilyushins and British-built Britannias leaving Jose Marti airport between october and mid-December, 1975, was Barbados. Security at Seawell airport was slack, it was a long way outside the capital, Bridgetown, and few people seemed to have noticed the night flights in the first few weeks. Barbados is one of the few places in the Caribbean where there is still a largely carefree mood, and where officials are apt to think the best rather than the worst of all comings and goings.
It is not clear whether the Barbadian Government gave the green light. But the then Prime Minister, Mr. Errol Barrow, conceded in an interview with The Sunday Telegraph that there may have been as many as 50 flights before he was forced to lodge a formal protest with the Cubans on December 17. Other observers say that at the height of the airlift there were between 10 and 15 flights a week, and as many as five in a single night. It is impossible to believe that Mr. Barrow's Government did not know from very early on about these mysterious planes.
American pressure finallt stopped the flights, although there was a wrangle within the American Embassy at the time over how much pressure should be applied. The black American Ambassador, Theodore Britton, was accused by the head of his political section of trying to "ingratiate" himself with Barrow.
This official, William Diedrich, has claimed that Mr. Britton failed to take a firm line on the troop movements. Diedrich was moved from Barbados after what he calls "a difference of opinion" with the Ambassador.
He maintains that it was clearly a military airlift, but the Barbadian authorities prevaricated by telling the Americans they were investigating. Diedrich also says that the Ambassador was "not taken in" but rather than show greater firmness he appeared to accept what Barrow told him.
Barrow told The Sunday Telegraph that he was unaware of the true nature of the Cubana flights. He also insisted that the Cubans had never made any kind of approach to him seeking permission to send their troop planes through Barbados.
What does not seem to be in dispute is that each plane carried about 100 men. They were wearing civilian clothing but were carrying briefcases containing weapons. The baggage holds of the aircraft reportedly carried loads of small arms, light artillery, small cannons and mortars.
After the Barbados connection was cut off, the Cubans turned to Eric Williams, the Prime Minister of Trinidad, for the same facilities. But he refused, on the ground that he was not ready to back foreign intervention in Angola. However, the Cubans soon found more amenable countries.
The Portuguese played a key part in getting the Cubans to Angola around Christmas, 1975. Britannia-31s flown by Cubana de Aviacion were allowed refuelling facilities at the airbase on the island of Santa Maria in the Azores. The pattern was the same with five flights in the last days of December: the Cubans would land at night with their internal lights dimmed, and without declaring their cargo. No passengers would disembark.
But Portuguese military intelligence officers established that the flight from Havana on December 20 contained 94 passengers en route to Guinea-Bissau. Another 259 passengers were on four succeeding flights.
Senior Portuguese officers say that American pressure finally persuaded the Portuguese to cut off refuelling facilities, which had been initially granted on the personal authority of the then President, General Costa Gomes.
The tremendous logistical exercise that was mounted to get the Cubans and their equipment to Angola went virtually unreported at the time, and Western intelligence services were sometimes slow to pick up definite news of some of the key items that were being smuggled in. But the Cubans ran into plenty of snags along the way. Some of the small coasters used to trans-ship arms and men from the Congo republic into northern Angola were sabotaged: two were blown up by Portuguese agents in contact with the French intelligence service, and at least three more were blown up by South African commandos.
What was life like at the front for a Cuban gunner or rifleman - typically, a farm labourer or textile worker of 22 or 23 who had started his national service at the age of 16? The diary of a young soldier who was posted to an area near Quibala, the scene of the biggest battles that took place in Angola in December 1975, gave some insights.
He left Havana on "a huge plane" on November 4 (the day before Castro - according to his apologists - gave the order to invade Angola) and his flight took 28 hours. "They forbid us to take any documents or any proof of our identity," he noted in the first entry in the diary, "but everyone knows that there are Cubans in Angola."
One of the first things that struck him was the quantity of arms and ammunition stockpiled for the invading force. "I was fascinated with all the weapons that were lying around there, without belonging to anyone. It's just unreal, the amount of money which is wasted in war, and just for peanuts." Unlike many of his colleagues, it seems that he was a Christian, since he was shocked by the discovery in "a small deserted church which was abandoned by the Portuguese" of "a lot of English magazines with naked women."
Within a week or two of his arrival, he was complaining about the poor fighting quality of his MPLA allies. On November 21 he noted that "this morning, two of our armoured cars and a truck were unexpectedly destroyed by the enemy, while they were on patrol. These Angolans are really careless."
Two days later he was complaining that the blacks were unwilling to dig foxholes at night, even though the enemy guns were dug in nearby. The following day, the Cuban/MPLA forces suffered heavy losses: "38 killed, hundreds of prisoners, eight armoured cars destroyed and many people wounded."
As the campaign progressed, food, hygiene and wild rumours about the savagery of the enemy became nagging preoccupations. "These past few days, the food has not been sufficient for us, but thanks to God there are a lot of cattle around here. I found a bow and arrow, so I used it to hunt just like the primitive tribes used to do." Since UNITA controlled the richest agricultural lands in Angola throughout most of the campaign, the MPLA and its Cuban allies often went hungry - although the fact that the Cubans received airlifts of such delicacies as Hungarian sausage and East German pickles was a constant irritant for their black comrades.
Like any front-line soldier, the Cuban was soon worrying about hygiene. On December 1 he noted, "While in bed I killed 52 fleas. Yes, I counted them because they are like wild beasts, and they bit." By this stage, he had at least acquired a black girl to bring him coffee and other comforts.
On November 29 he was worrying about rumours that 18 Cuban prisoners had been eaten alive by black soldiers on the other side. "The news came from two or three of our troops who managed to escape." Similar stories had currency on both sides throughout the war. As the Cuban's diary indicates later on, the Cubans found it expedient to circulate rumours about enemy savagery in order to prevent their black auxiliaries from running away.
It was a war in which there were few creature-comforts, apart from the occasional cache of Angolan wine put away by some white settler who had taken flight. But the Cubans, officer and man, had one luxury: a weekly ration of 20 Havana cigars or cigarettes if they preferred.
The Cubans took some very hard knocks. At the Battle of Bridge 14, in the area north of Santa Comba on December 9, they lost 90 men. At a battle near Quibala on December 14 another 50 Cubans were killed. The seriously wounded Cuban soldiers were flown out to East Germany for treatment - apparently in order not to demoralise the people at home. Stories were current among the men in the field of refrigerator ships that were sent to take away the bodies of Cuban dead.
The Cubans' combat performance in Angola did little to create a Vietcong-type of myth of invincibility - at least among those who know what the fighting was really like. Nor did the propaganda talk about "revolutionary solidarity" or Castro's efforts to make out that there was some special affinity between the Angolan and Cuban peoples ("African blood runs in our veins") enable the expeditionary force to avoid friction with the people it was supposedly helping. Cuban prisoners were forthright in their views about their Angolan allies.
Standard complaints were that the MPLA were poorly trained and "a band of cowards." MPLA prisoners said many Cubans were "racists" who insisted on privileges denied to the black troops and who ruthlessly shot any black soldier who tried to retreat after his officers had already fled. Such tensions are still simmering. There was a report earlier this month of a clash in a barracks in southern Angola in which 10 Cubans were killed by the MPLA.
Castro's African safari has not ended with Angola. He made that plain in a speech on July 26, 1976, in which he declared that "Cuban military units and the necessary weapons have remained in Angola... This will continue as long as necessary...And Cuban soldiers will fight shoulder to shoulder with the Angolan people again." In Rhodesia? In South West Africa? In South Africa, the primary target of Communist aggression in the African continent?
A fresh effort is now under way - through articles, books and films - to depict the Cuban troops in Angola as conquering heroes fired with love of the cause, before whom the enemy lines opened up like the Red Sea.
The truth, as succeeding articles will show, was somewhat different. The Cubans outnumbered the South African forces in Angola by 10 to one. Thanks to Soviet largesse, the pro-Moscow forces outgunned the anti-Communist forces by more than 10 to one, and had MiG fighters available to boot. Yet the Cubans "won" only in the sense that South Africa felt politically obliged to withdraw, while black anti-Communist guerrillas fight on.
It was a victory nonetheless. It taught us that in the great world conflict for which Angola was only one of the battlefields, victory or defeat depends on political will.
HOW SOUTH AFRICA TOOK ON CASTRO'S INVADERS
by Robert Moss
The Communist invasion of Angola posed a challenge to the West. Would anyone take it up? Or would Cuban troops and Soviet guns enable a Marxist movement with only minority backing in the northern part of the country to set up a dictatorship?
The prospect was far from palatable to most of black Africa. Moderate or pro-Western leaders like Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia, Mobutu of Zaire or Senghor of Senegal had no desire to see a new Soviet puppet regime set up in Angola. Zambia and Zaire, both dependent on the Benguela railway, feared that the Communists would then use economic pressure to change their own policies, and that Angola would be turned into a base for subversion.
Equally, Angola's mineral wealth (especially in diamonds, iron ore and the oil from Cabinda) and its strategic position made it of vital concern to Western Governments. But Angola mattered in a deeper sense, as a place where the Russians had set out the capacity of post- Vietnam America to respond to Communist aggression in far-flung places. Before the end of the conflict, most Western nations - America, Britain, France, West Germany, Italy, Spain and Israel - had contributed their mite to the anti-Soviet forces in Angola.
There was a CIA operations officer in Silva Porto, UNITA's headquarters, throughout the war. British Intelligence and private interests - especially Tanganyika Concessions and Lonrho, which loaned UNITA its pilots - remained in close liaison with UNITA and arranged delivery of smaller items such as radio equipment. UNITA leaders frequently came to London for medical treatment and to lobby British MPs. When the South Africans withdrew their instructors from Silva Porto, French "mercenaries" working for SDECE (the French MI6) took over; in many ways, the French were more adventurous than any other Western power. The Spanish provided a safe base in Europe for the white Portuguese fighting with the FNLA, who were given false papers by the police.
Intelligence officers from all these countries met - sometimes at remote airstrips - to compare their inventories, and to check that they were not duplicating arms supplies.
It was left to South Africa to shoulder the heaviest burden, by providing instructors, advisers and finally an armoured column in a desperate bid to lower the odds against the black nationalists, who were fighting a losing battle against Cuban troops and big guns from Russia. No one thanked the South Africans for what they tried to do. On the contrary, it earned them a smack in the teeth from the UN Security Council on March 31, 1976, months after their combat troops had withdrawn.
Guarantees from the Americans
Yet, as South Africa's Defence Minister, Mr. Botha, pointed out in a speech to Parliament, his country was at least a part of Africa, unlike Cuba, and presumably had some right to concern itself with events across its borders.
But the key fact about South Africa's intervention was one that neither Mr. Botha nor any other senior official in Pretoria has ever been prepared to discuss. It is that when South Africans went into Angola, they went in with the private blessing of many Western and black African Governments, and at the urgent invitation of the black nationalist movements in Angola. At one stage, for example, President Mobutu of Zaire actually implored the South Africans to bomb northern MPLA positions. The UNITA leader, Jonas Savimbi, flew to Pretoria at a critical stage in the war to beg Mr. Vorster to keep his troops in Angola. The South Africans also went in with the encouragement of Dr. Kissinger, who offered American guarantees that, in the event, he was unable to fulfil.
How did the South Africans get sucked into a black civil war? The story begins in March, 1975, when a senior South African intelligence officer met Jonas Savimbi in a European capital. At a meeting in Lusaka on April 14 Savimbi asked for small arms and cash to enable his movement to contribute to the joint black army that was supposed to be set up under independence, and so help to establish a military balance that could force the pro-Soviet MPLA to agree to hold elections.
The South Africans - like other Western Governments - were worried by the jealousies between UNITA and its rivals of FNLA, the third black faction in Angola, and urged Savimbi to establish a formal alliance with Holden Roberto, its leader. Savimbi was reluctant, complaining of gangsterish behaviour and "anti-white" attitudes among the FNLA chiefs. The South Africans rejected his request and allowed contact to lapse for several months. (Savimbi found other backers in the meantime - including the Chinese, who supplied seven tons of arms in the first half of 1975.)
The South Africans had also been approached by Holden Roberto, through Portuguese intermediaries such as Colonel Santos e Castro, a respected former counter-insurgency fighter who had been a provincial governor in Angola and was to become a key figure in the anti- Communist movement in both Portugal and Angola. Their first meeting with Roberto took place in Kinshasa in July. On the strength of Roberto's undertaking to consolidate an alliance with Savimbi the South Africans agreed to give the FNLA a shipment of mostly second-hand light machine-guns, rifles and mortars, which arrived in August.
A third meeting towards the end of August, in UNITA-held territory inside Angola, when a senior South African army general was present, set the scene for South Africa's entry into the war. The South African Army agreed to provide instructors. Two training camps were set up: one for UNITA at Calombo, south of Silva Porto, another for the FNLA forces loyal to Daniel Chipenda at Mpupa, in southern Angola. Crash courses at these camps enabled the anti-Soviet movements to put 6,000 trained (or at least partly trained) men into the field in six weeks.
A platoon of South African soldiers had already been deployed inside Angola, around the Calueque hydro-electric works on the Cunene River on August 9. But this was a purely defensive exercise, intended to guard the Cunene Dam and hydro-electric scheme, which supplied energy to the major towns of southern Angola, from marauding gangs. The South Africans later claimed that their intervention here had had the tacit approval of the Portuguese.
Dr. Hilgard Muller, the South African Foreign Minister, later said that South Africa's entry on to the battlefield had had "a limited objective" - that of gaining time for the rival forces in Angola, with the catalyst of diplomatic pressure from black Africa, to achieve a political settlement.
The army's instructions were to assist Savimbi's and Roberto's forces to regain control of the areas of southern and central Angola where they enjoyed traditional ethnic support, and above all to help UNITA to hold on to its capital, Nova Lisbon, which was threatened by the Cuban and MPLA forces. The hope was that, if the anti-Soviet forces were seen to be in a position of strength on November 11, the day of independence, the MPLA and its sponsors would be forced to make a treaty with them and abandon their plan for outright conquest.
'Brothers' for the UNITA troops
As it turned out, the astonishing military success of the tiny South African column in Angola offered the chance of something more: an outright military victory over the Communists. But the chance was rejected.
Even for a black leader who was as consummate a politician as Jonas Savimbi, the relationship with the South Africans was uneasy at first. After all, he had been fighting the Portuguese in the bush for years, only to end up with the country whose apartheid policy was the focus for the hatred and resentment of black nationalists everywhere as his ally. But he soon found a close friend and confidant in the young fair-haired paratroop colonel who landed in Silva Porto on September 21, 1975.
The South African was no newcomer to Angola. He had served as a military attache with the South African embassy in Luanda between 1970 and 1973, and spoke fluent Portuguese. Savimbi's men took to calling the South African Commandant Kaas (which means "Commander Cheese") because of his fair complexion and the fact that he came from a Dutch family, and Kaas called Savimbi "the Docter" or simply "Doc".
The major had arrived with a team of 18 infantry corps instructors, who were soon described in the UNITA camps simply as "the brothers". Their orders were to provide training in conventional warfare for UNITA troops, and to help UNITA establish a holding position in central Angola.
The South African team arrived at a moment when the pro-Soviet forces had seized control of all the major towns in Angola except Nova Lisboa, Silva Porto, Luso and Holden Roberto's capital, Carmona, in the north, and Daniel Chipenda's capital, Serpa Pinto, in the south-east. The Communists held all major ports, and were driving deep into the Ovimbundu tribal areas traditionally controlled by UNITA.
Commandant Kaas found himself in charge of a disused Portuguese gaol and 1000-odd enthusiastic UNITA recruits, mostly aged between 14 and 20. He set up a two weeks' training course, working the recruits day and night. His personal headquarters were at the airfield outside Silva Porto.
UNITA was desperately short of weapons, and the shortage was made worse by sheer disorganisation. It was not until after independence day, for example, that Commandant Kaas discovered a cache of 600 light machine guns that someone had hidden away in the bush and then forgotten. All UNITA's weapons and explosives were piled up together in a few mud huts in Silva Porto, and UNITA commanders as far away as Pereira d'Eca would have to trek north to be resupplied. The explanation was political. Savimbi was well aware that one way to prevent remote subordinates from developing into unruly warlords was to leave them in no doubt about where their next bullets would come from.
UNITA had other foreign helpers, although they were of uneven value. Agents from most Western Powers bobbed up in Silva Porto throughout the campaign, and were put up in relatively palatial former Portuguese residences, or in the former monastery. President Mobutu of Zaire not only sent six old Panhard armoured cars (whose electric clutch defeated inexperienced drivers) but 120 smartly turned out soldiers as well.
Pretoria's Order: 'Hold Back'
Their appearance, however, was no guide to their combat potential. They spent most of their time preying on the local girls, and when real fighting was in the offing, they took to removing the steering wheels from the armoured cars overnight in order to prevent any offensive being launched. Savimbi and Commandant Kaas managed to stop this practice by making it plain to the Zairean major in charge that his men were not expected to do any actual fighting. Although Savimbi was pressed to send the Zaireans back, he prevaricated, unwilling to offend Mobutu. However, UNITA took great care to lock up abandoned shops and warehouses and guard them against possible looters.
The crucial mission of the South African advisers with Savimbi was to stop the Communist forces from advancing on Nova Lisboa down one of the three main roads that were open to them: from Luanda to the north, and from Benguela and Lobito to the west. A UNITA column under Savimbi's command set out on October 4 to ward off a reported Communist thrust from the west, and clashed with the Cubans and the MPLA three days later.
After the battle the UNITA forces set up defensive positions to the west of Nova Lisboa and Commandant Kaas radioed an urgent request for reinforcements. He was sent a squadron of 22 armoured cars, airlifted to Silva Porto on big C-130 transports. It was tempting to strike north to the Cuanza River with this new force, but the orders from Pretoria were to hold back. Word had already come of the arrival of another South African force in the south of the country.
One evening in late October, Major Chindondo, the UNITA Chief-of-Staff, arrived breathless and excited at the training camp. He had come to alert Commandant Kaas, to reports that the enemy was advancing towards Nova Lisboa in great strength from the north, and was massed in the Quibala area.
Commandant Kaas assembled most of his armoured cars and a UNITA battalion in a column, code-named Foxbat, which struck north and eventually took up defensive positions in the Cela area. It was here, on November 7, that the UNITA forces bagged one of their biggest quarries. The MPLA advance was being led by a senior Cuban officer, driving a black Citroen. A South African gunner fired at his car with a 106mm gun, and he was killed.
The Foxbat column was ordered to hold a line about 30km north of Nova Lisboa until independence day - although in military terms it would have had little difficulty in advancing to the line of the Cuanza River, 270km further north. The political directive was that the South Africans should not go beyond traditional UNITA territory, and should be ready to withdraw on November 11.
Meanwhile, another South African column drove over the border of South West Africa into Angola on October 14. The code-name given to it by the South African high command was Operation Zulu, which apparently confused the Cubans. There were, indeed, more black South Africans than white in the columns, but there were certainly no Zulus.
The officer in command was a stocky colonel in his early forties, an Afrikaner from the Cape Province who had graduated from the military academy in Saldanha Bay and had volunteered to serve in Angola at the beginning of the month. He was to earn the nickname "Rommel" from his comrades because of the extraordinary speed of the column's advance.
He was alerted at 9.30 p.m. on October 9 that he should get ready to leave Pretoria for the operational headquarters at Rundu, on the Angolan border, on a 7 a.m. flight the following morning. At Rundu he discovered that his force was to consist of two battalions: a Bushman battalion, mainly recruited from the Caprivi strip, and including many Bushmen who had fought for the Portuguese as skirmishers and trackers, together with Portuguese ex-army officers; and a black FNLA battalion consisting of about 1,000 men divided into three companies and commanded by a mulatto, Commandant Businha.
The FNLA men were followers of Daniel Chipenda, the warlord whose headquarters was at Serpa Pinto. Chipenda had broken away from the MPLA a year before and his loyalty could never entirely be taken for granted by his new allies.
"Rommel" had only six South African officers and seven N.C.O.s to help him command his force. From the outset they had a language problem. Half the Bushmen spoke Portuguese; the other half (recruited in South West Africa) spoke Afrikaans. So orders would be issued to their Afrikaner commanding officer in Afrikaans. He would then repeat them in English to the Portuguese officers, who in turn would translate them into Portuguese. It was a process that would have been merely tedious on the parade-ground, but on the battlefield it presented the risk of fatal confusion and delay.
"Rommel’s" orders were to capture all the important centres along the coast that he could reach before independence day on November 11, within the ethnic areas where support for the UNITA and the FNLA was strongest. He was to make it clear to the civilian population that his was a UNITA/FNLA column; some Portuguese settlers wrongly imagined that they had come to restore the old order.
A shoot-out in the bar
When the column crossed the border at Cuangar on October 14 it included only civilian vehicles - lorries, vegetable trucks, private cars and a few Land-Rovers. The first target was the southern town of Pereira d’Eca, which had already changed hands several times. The column ran into light resistance from MPLA ambush parties using RPG-7 anti-tank rockets along the road (and also from UNITA foragers who had not yet been notified of Operation Zulu) but when it got to the town, most of the defenders fled into the bush.
This was to become the pattern throughout much of the campaign. MPLA soldiers took to wearing civilian clothes under their uniforms so that, once driven out of their positions, they could drop their rifles, whip off their military gear, and merge into the civilian population.
The column occupied Pereira d’Eca so quickly that MPLA troops on the outskirts were not immediately aware that the town had changed owners. Commandant Businha was having a celebratory drink in a local bar when two MPLA soldiers came in. He whirled around, took one look at them, and gave the MPLA salute (two fingers up). When they responded, he fired from the hip with his F.N., killing both.
The condition of Pereira d’Eca gave a glimpse of what the South Africans were to find in the bigger towns, gutted by a black civil war. Most of the buildings had been sacked; the shops looted down to the floorboards. Local UNITA forces were brought in to restore basic services.
From Pereira d’Eca the column swung north-west towards Rocadas where it was joined on October 20 by four troops of armoured cars (about 20 in all) and half a platoon of 81mm. mortars, sent over the border from South- West Africa. The column also gained some more exotic recruits at Rocadas. It was met by a band of 47 Portuguese led by a small dapper captain with a twirled moustache called Aparicio, who proudly announced that he and his followers were members of the Portuguese Liberation Army (ELP) and that they intended to drive the Communists out of Angola before carrying the crusade to Portugal itself. Aparicio quickly acquired the nickname "Garibaldi" with the South Africans. Unfortunately his group proved to be bolder in promises than in deeds, and never went further than Sa da Bandeira.
Two days later, the strengthened column, now led by a Land-Rover with a machine-gun mounted on top, swept into the town of Joao de Almeida. This was more vigorously defended; it had been used as a major MPLA storage depot, and large quantities of food, equipment and propaganda materials were captured.
Now the road was clear for the assault on Sa da Bandeira, the capital of Huila province, which was still believed to contain a sizeable white population. "Rommel’s" main worry now was that the MPLA would pull back inside the town, putting the civilians at risk, but the defences turned out to be concentrated at outlying positions, especially a hill called Monte Cristo Rei because of the large statue of Christ on its summit.
The Zulu forces struck first at the airfield (standard procedure throughout the offensive since the column was basically air-supplied) and then sent troops to scale the Monte Cristo Rei by stealth on the night of October 24. They found that the MPLA had already withdrawn, together with their big guns. This again was part of the pattern of the campaign so that as Zulu drove farther north it ran into even heavier firepower.
Ambush from rocket-launchers
It was left to Captain Garibaldi and his Liberators to clear Sa da Bandeira. Joined by another troop of Panhard armoured cars and another half-platoon of 81mm. mortars, the South Africans’ next target was the major southern port of Mocamedes. On the way the column came under fire from 122mm. single-tube rocket-launchers, an ideal weapon for ambush, very light, easy to handle, and capable of being fired from an ordinary car.
The column managed to fight its way through and occupied the harbour of Mocamedes on the evening of October 27. There was an interesting variety of shipping bobbing at anchor, including a Portuguese navy corvette and Portuguese, Greek and Italian merchant vessels. The South Africans believed that these ships had been bringing arms - and probably Cuban troops as well - to Mocamedes, and were now being loaded up for a mass evacuation. They also knew that Nord-Atlas aircraft, allegedly owned by Frelimo in Mozambique, had been flying troops and equipment out of Mocamedes in advance of the Zulu offensive.
As the sun set over the harbour roads, a red Fiat coupe with a white flag fluttering from its bonnet drove out of the town towards "Rommel’s" improvised command post. It had two occupants: the Portuguese captain in command of the 150 paratroops in the town, and a naval officer from the corvette. They requested that the ships in the harbour should be allowed to leave, on the grounds that they were evacuating refugees. The captain also insisted that his paratroops wanted to have nothing to do with the war. "We are neutrals," he insisted. "My role here is to guard the lives and property of the refugees."
It was later discovered that he was not telling the whole truth. Unknown to the Zulu force, the communications centre at Silva Porto had already picked up an urgent radio signal from the Portuguese command in Mocamedes to Luanda, requesting that MPLA reinforcements should be sent at once. It was also confirmed later that at the time Zulu arrived, a Soviet vessel had been waiting outside the harbour, bearing more arms and ammunition.
Pulling out without a fight
Although he could see barges laden with MPLA men plying back and forth between the harbour and the ships at anchor, "Rommel" decided to grant the vessels permission to leave. He also told the navy officer that if the corvette had not left by dawn it would be blown out of the water - pure bluff, since the South Africans had no means of blowing it up.
By first light on October 28 the corvette had gone. Although there had been intensive fire the previous night, when MPLA and Cuban forces occupied a ridge outside the town and kept up an intensive and accurate fire with 122mm. rockets, there was little resistance inside the town itself. Advance units reached the airport (south of the city) too late to prevent the take-off of a Nord-Atlas carrying MPLA leaders, Cuban advisers and some heavy weapons. Although no Cubans were actually sighted during the fighting around Mocamedes, the precision firing was the clue to their presence.
After local UNITA forces were established in control of Mocamedes, the column turned back to Sa da Bandeira to regroup for the main assault on the north. There were reports that the MPLA was probing south from its positions at Benguela and Lobito - a primary objective for the South African operation as the country’s second port and its most important railhead.
The rainy season was beginning, flooding rivers and turning the lowland areas farther north into swamp. From now on, the campaign was to centre on bridges and river-crossings. Control of all-weather roads became the key to victory or defeat.
On the road from Sa da Bandeira to Benguela, the Zulu column ran into a series of extremely well-prepared MPLA positions. The influence of the Cubans - who showed themselves in the war to be well-trained in preparing and holding static positions, although inept fighters when things failed to go according to plan - was now obvious at every stage along the way.
The first major clash on the road to Benguela took place at Caporolo at the end of October. Here the Cubans and MPLA had set up their guns on a hill overlooking a bridge. "Rommel" sent his Bushmen westward along the river to look for a ford they could cross in order to take the enemy by surprise from behind. The Bushmen went too far, missing the ford. In the meantime, one of the Panhards nosed too far forward along the main road, disclosing the column’s position.
To the South Africans’ astonishment, the enemy forces simply picked up their equipment and ran - but not before trying to blow up the bridge. The explosive charges had all been set, but the last man who had checked the circuit on the detonator had forgotten to reconnect the wire. The South Africans drove on across the bridge, and pushed on to Catengue, where the roads from Benguela and Nova Lisboa intersect. It was time to take stock and find out where the enemy was.
A party was sent eastward on the Nova Lisboa road, where MPLA units were reported to be advancing towards Catengue. A South African lieutenant called Jan, blackened from many months in the bushveld along the South-West African border, and with flowing hair and beard, drove in the leading Land-Rover. He drove straight into an advancing MPLA convoy, led by officers using Mercedes-Benz and Citroen cars "borrowed" from the Portuguese.
He was saved by the fact that the MPLA took one look at him and imagined he was a Cuban. "Donde estan los companeros?" someone asked. Jan grunted, waved behind him down the road, and put two fingers up in the approved MPLA style. The MPLA grinned and drove by - and Jan opened up on them with a .50 Browning machine-gun.
He subsequently set up an ambush post on the road from which he was able to knock off no fewer than seven MPLA cars in succession with a 90mm. gun. They just kept coming on like moths into the flames, without any prior reconnaissance.
Three MPLA men were captured and made to strip and dig graves for the next victims of the ambush. Jan bore the nickname of "the Cuban" for the rest of the campaign.
Meanwhile, reconnaissance parties established that a major Cuban/MPLA force had dug in a few kilometres farther up the Benguela road, with 15 or 20 mortars. The mortars sowed terror among the troops when the Zulu column tried to break through on November 2. The black troops refused to face the mortars, and the column was pinned down for six hours, under a ferocious concentration of fire. The black FNLA gunners, for their part, returned the MPLA barrage by firing off their own mortars so rapidly (25 rounds a minute instead of the normal two) that their guns burned out and the barrels grew so hot that when a round was inserted, it would ignite immediately. There were many severe burns. The road was finally cleared after scouts from the Zulu force found a trail winding round the south of the enemy position. An advance group was sent to try to cut off the MPLA line of retreat but, as before, the enemy beat a hasty retreat.
Once again, luck saved the bridge for the Zulu column. Cuban engineers had run a wire back from the bridge for some 2,000 metres to the detonator. Everything was set for demolition, and the South Africans were astonished that the bridge did not go up in flames. By a fluke, one of their mortar rounds had cut the wire.
At the Catengue battlefield, the South Africans picked up another clue to the Cuban presence: an intelligence map marked in Spanish. They captured seven prisoners, who told them that there was a large camp outside Benguela with some 350 Cubans.
After Catengue, the MPLA and their Cuban friends bolted north, leaving neatly-dug trenches and even big ammunition dumps in their wake.
Just south of Benguela, the column found another camp, which turned out to have been the main Cuban base in the area.
The Zulu force was now ready for the assault on Benguela. It numbered about 150 white South Africans with their Panhards, together with the loyal Bushmen and the FNLA battalion, reduced to some 450 blacks and 80 white Portuguese. The attack began on November 4, just a week before independence day, and the airfield to the south-east of the town was seized without resistance.
But now something happened that the South Africans had feared all along: the MPLA and the Cubans pulled their forces back into the city itself. Simultaneously, they opened up a murderous barrage with half-a-dozen rocket launchers, dug in on the other side of Benguela, as well as intensive small-arms fire from the native huts on the outskirts of the town. The column was pinned down at the airport for 26 hours.
For the first time during his almost uninterrupted advance, "Rommel" was faced with a dilemma. His mortars had a maximum range of only about five kilometres, while the enemy batteries were at least 7-8km. away, and the Soviet-made 122s had a range of up to 14km. He could not risk firing into the town, nor could he advance with his armoured cars and allow the enemy to snipe at them from close range. Meanwhile, the deafening thud of the enemy rockets was terrifying his men.
From his command post in the airport control tower "Rommel" finally hit on a solution. He sent his mortars round the eastern outskirts of the town, gambling on getting them within striking distance of the enemy positions before the Cuban rangefinders could get a fix on them.
He succeeded because the enemy imagined that he had: when the South African mortars opened up, they were still several hundred metres too far away from their targets. However, the enemy commander must have concluded that the South Africans were merely ranging in, because the Cubans and their rocket-launchers pulled out immediately. The mortar companies inside Benguela followed suit.
The battle for Benguela had offered a warning: good soldiering could not always make up for the disadvantages of being outgunned, least of all in a war where the black troops on both sides showed a marked preference for fighting as far away as possible from the enemy lines. "Rommel" radioed back to Rundu with an urgent request for field artillery to match the MPLA’s longer-range weapons.
On November 7 the Zulu force drove on to Lobito. The population was largely pro-UNITA, and the Cubans and the MPLA pulled out without fighting. After Lobito had been seized by the pro-Soviet forces, UNITA had been able to keep in close contact with its cadres inside the town by telephone; no steps had been taken to cut off the most obvious form of communication.
The Zulu force stayed at Lobito until independence day. "Rommel" expected to be recalled on November 11, in accordance with his original orders. But the orders were changed. Bloodier fighting lay ahead.
Battle of Death Road
by Robert Moss
The last representative of the Portuguese empire in Africa, Admiral Leonel Cardoso, the High Commissioner of Angola, decided not to stay for the country’s independence celebrations on November 11, 1975. He watched the Portuguese flag being lowered over the 16th-century fort of Sao Miguel in Luanda, declared that "Portugal is departing without a feeling of guilt or shame" - and scuttled to the safety of the frigate riding at anchor in the harbour.
Five centuries of colonial rule ended as MPLA troops swarmed into the admiral’s palace. Portugal, he said, had handed over power to "the six million Angolan people."
While the Marxists in Luanda hailed Agostinho Neto as Angola’s first black president, the supporters of the two anti-Soviet movements, UNITA and the FNLA, danced in the streets of Nova Lisboa (renamed Huambo) and Ambriz. The MPLA was quickly able to boast the diplomatic recognition of the Soviet bloc, the Marxist African states and capitalist Brazil. Meanwhile UNITA and FNLA proclaimed their own State, the "Peoples’ Democratic Republic," and claimed that they controlled 11 of Angola’s 16 provinces.
With the South African column code-named Zulu waiting at Lobito for its marching orders and with FNLA forces threatening Luanda from positions less than 19 miles to its north, the anti-Communist forces enjoyed clear military superiority. But their advantage was rapidly eroded after November 11 by the continued build-up of Cuban combat forces and Soviet weaponry, and the failure of the Western Powers to respond to it.
One glittering opportunity had been lost on the very eve of independence, in a savage battle for the capital. While South Africa’s "Rommel," the colonel commanding Operation Zulu, was striking north to Benguela and Lobito, the FNLA was pushing south in a desperate attempt to seize Luanda before independence day. The FNLA had been driven out of the capital in July, when the MPLA launched a surprise attack, in which Portuguese pilots - flying civilian airplanes of the Portuguese-Angolan airline, TAAG - had flown reconnaissance missions. But by early November, the Marxists’ position in Luanda was no longer secure.
Fighting around Dondo to the south, where the hydro-electric plant that supplied the capital’s electicity is located, resulted in blackouts. Luanda’s water supply was also cut off for days. Further, the anti-Soviet forces had managed to isolate the capital from its food supplies; the richest farming lands were securely in UNITA hands. There seemed to be a chance that the defenders of Luanda could be starved into submission.
Meanwhile by November 6 a column of some 800 black FNLA troops, reinforced by 130 white Portuguese led by Colonel Gilberto Santos e Castro and Major Cardoso - a brilliant irregular fighter and a former officer of Salazar’s secret police, the PIDE - and three Zairean battalions led by a Zairean colonel had advanced as far as Caxito, a strategic crossroads 31 miles north of Luanda. Holden Roberto, the mulatto leader of the FNLA, his eyes permanently masked by dark glasses, had taken personal charge of the column and was poised for an assault on Luanda. It was timed for November 10, the eve of independence.
But from the start of the attack things went wrong. The FNLA column had advanced to the area of the Bengo river, and was supposed to strike across the bridge over it at first light on November 10. But the orders got garbled, officers overslept, and the attack did not start until 7.45 a.m.
It was the direction of the attack rather than its timing that doomed it from the start. Facing Holden Roberto’s men, on the other side of the Bengo river, was a force of some 800 Cubans. The MPLA soldiers with them were commanded by Cubans right down to section level.
The Cubans were we
by Robert Moss
How Fidel Castro's 15,000 Cuban invaders of Angola, armed by Russia, won a victory by default over the anti-Communist forces is told in detail for the first time in an exhaustive study, which begins on this page today, of this largely secret war.
The author, Robert Moss, shows that the United States, having begged South Africa to put troops in to offset the Communist intervention, lost its nerve and failed to stop the great build-up of men, guns and aircraft from across the seas, which had started, trucked right across the African continent, way back in 1964.
The Russians' motives were far from ideological. They were after oil, diamonds, minerals - and naval bases.
Only now, when the war is nominally over but guerrilla resistance continues, does the truth of this extraordinary adventure begin to emerge.
The pro-Communist forces outnumbered the anti-Communists by 10 to 1 in weaponry. Ten times as many Cubans as South Africans went in. But it was failure of will which determined the issue in the end.
New details gathered in South Africa, Washington, Barbados, Lisbon, Paris, Madrid, Jerusalem and the States neighbouring Angola show how the plot was hatched, the war fought and the political capitulation of the West ensured. The captured diary of a Cuban soldier vividly recreates what it was like for these interlopers in a black civil war.
On the morning of October 7, 1975, a company of teenage soldiers from Jonas Savimbi's anti- Soviet UNITA movement was heading west through central Angola. The men belonged to one of three black guerrilla movements which had been promised a share in Angola's independence from Portugal, then only a month away. Their mission was to intercept a column of pro-Soviet MPLA forces that was reported to be striking east towards Nova Lisboa, Angola's second biggest city.
The UNITA (National Union for the Total Independence of Angola) column had started out from its base in Silva Porto with two old Panhard armoured cars (a gift from President Mobutu of Zaire) but one had broken down along the way. Its other weaponry was not impressive: three jeep-mounted anti-tank missile launchers, two 106mm recoilless guns, and four .50 Browning machine-guns. But at this stage that was virtually the full inventory of UNITA's hardware.
The column included 14 South African infantry instructors acting as advisers, led by a major. They were tough professionals who had volunteered to go to the aid of UNITA in what had so far been a losing battle against superior Soviet-supplied weapons. They wore UNITA uniforms.
Some four-and-a-half miles outside the village of Norton de Matos, the little column reached a bridge. Scouts were sent forward, and reported that the enemy was not in sight. But then a spotter plane appeared overhead, and one of the black soldiers opened up on it with a machine-gun. This was the signal for all hell to break loose. From over the brow of the hills beyond the river the concealed MPLA (Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola) forces opened up with recoilless guns, light artillery, air-burst mortars - and five Soviet-built T-34 tanks with Cuban crews joined in.
The South African major's jeep was knocked out from under him by an armour-piercing projectile from one of the tanks, but he escaped uninjured. UNITA's young soldiers - who had had only two weeks to prepare them for war - scattered in confusion. But UNITA's solitary armoured car, commanded by a South African lieutenant, swung forward and lobbed a 90mm shell into one of the Soviet tanks, which disappeared in flames. The South Africans managed to knock out a second tank with one of UNITA's 106mm guns. After this the other three Soviet tanks pulled back.
While the enemy mortars kept up an intensive fire, the South Africans, ducking and weaving, slammed six anti-tank missiles towards the hidden positions, without any certainty of hitting anything. But a UNITA patrol subsequently claimed that 116 of the enemy had been killed. There were no South African casualties.
This skirmish at an obscure spot in central Angola (never before reported) was the first armed confrontation between the Cubans and the South Africans, the prelude to an extraordinary war in which one of the most brazen land-grabs that the Russians and their satellites have attempted proved to be successful - not because of victory on the battlefield, but because of the political failure of the United States to deliver sufficient support to the anti-Soviet guerrillas.
The Communist invasion of Angola is one of the most decisive, and most sombre, turning- points in the whole period since 1945. It is the story of how more than 15,000 troops from a sugar-cane republic in the Caribbean were transported 6,000 miles across the Atlantic to serve as the Gurkhas of the Soviet Empire, and how a pro-Communist Government in Lisbon, and a number of Third World Governments, smoothed the way for that invasion.
It is also the story of how the South Africans - supposedly pariahs - were begged by the United States and by moderate black African leaders to put troops into Angola to offset the Communist intervention. By the end of a lightning armoured offensive the South Africans came within a hair's breadth of securing a total military victory for the anti-Communist black movements of Angola. Why that victory was thrown away is the most complex story of all. But the most damning factor was the failure of nerve in Washington.
In an age of televised battles, the war for Angola was a remarkably secret war, and the truth of what happened is only slowly beginning to seep out. The Cubans have just produced their authorised version, in the form of a book-length article published by the Colombian novelist Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the Mexican magazine Progreso. In the midst of a wealth of factual detail, his account is littered with distortions and plain untruths.
For example, Garcia Marquez states that the decision to send Cuban combat soldiers into Angola was taken on November 5, 1975. But Cuban troops were on the battlefield months before then. He gives the impression of a triumphal Cuban march to the south in the early months of 1976, but does not mention that it took the Cubans more than two months to occupy the territory that the South Africans vacated after they took the political decision to withdraw.
But there are two basic truths in the Garcia Marquez account. The first is that the Cuban invasion was encouraged by the belief that the Americans, after Vietnam, Watergate and the witch-hunt against the CIA, were in no shape to respond effectively to Communist aggression. The second is that the Cubans were confident that, if they ran into real trouble, their Russian sponsors would not allow them to fail.
Plundering Tiger and her savage cubs
It was a war of camouflage. Both the Cubans and the South Africans went into Angola at the outset wearing civilian clothes or other people's uniforms. Cuban volunteers (such as the three wounded prisoners who were taken to South Africa for medical treatment) were told that they were being sent to work on a building project, or to undergo a a political training course in Russia. The first South African instructors with UNITA were ordered to talk only in English and to describe themselves, if asked, as English.
I cannot profess to write the secret history of the Angola war in full, but this narrative (based on authoritative sources in several non-Communist countries) will tell a great deal that has never been told before. First, there is the Communist invasion of Angola and how it was achieved; then the course of the war, including the battle for Luanda, the capital; and then the United States' capitulation, which has brought, in President Kaunda's chilling phrase, a "plundering tiger and her savage cubs" to the gates of Rhodesia, South Africa, and the moderate black African States.
The Russians had been deeply involved in Angola since the early 1960s. In 1956 the rigidly pro-Soviet Portuguese Communist Party had helped to found the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola, in which Dr. Agostinho Neto - a mulatto who had helped to set up a clandestine Communist group during his student days in Oporto - emerged as the dominant figure. In the early 1960s the MPLA established its first contacts with the Cubans, who were helping to run a training camp for African guerrillas at Dolisie in Congo-Brazzaville. A number of MPLA cadres also received training in Cuba during this period.
In 1964 the Portuguese Communist leader Alvaro Cunhal set up a meeting for Agostinho Neto with the Soviet leaders in Moscow. This was the trigger for a more ambitious Soviet support programme. The Russians began shipping consignments of arms and food to Dar-es- Salaam, from where they were trucked to the MPLA via Zambia. Soviet merchant vessels laden with small arms, AK-47 rifles, RPG-7 rocket launchers, and mortars became a familiar sight in Tanzanian waters. The Russians also began doling out a cash subsidy ranging between $150,000 and $300,000 a year.
Most significant, perhaps, the Russians began to receive a regular intake of MPLA recruits for training at the Institute of Marxism-Leninism (for aspiring commissars), at the army camp at Simferopol in the Ukraine (for rank-and-file soldiers), and at the Frunzi military college (for officer material). One of the graduates of Frunzi was Iko Carreira who, as the MPLA's Minister of Defence, was to play a critical role in the secret talks that led to the Cuban invasion of Angola.
Soviet aid to the MPLA diminished between 1972 and 1974, apparently as a result of the movement's miserable performance in guerrilla operations against the Portuguese. There was a sharp renewal of interest in the MPLA, however, just before the coup in Lisbon on April 25, 1974, that set the scene for the decolonisation of Portuguese Africa.
The Portuguese Communists were deeply involved in the coup, and the Russians had at least six weeks' forewarning of it. But for the Russians the key strategic objective was not Portugal itself, but Portugal's African possessions - above all Angola, rich in oil, diamonds and other minerals, and occupying a vital geopolitical position. UNITA sources have claimed that as early as 1969 the Russians concluded a secret treaty with the MPLA leader Neto under which they undertook to guarantee continued support in return for a pledge that, if the MPLA succeeded, it would allow Russia to set up naval bases in Angola.
The Portuguese announced their plans for decolonisation in August, 1974. In the second half of that year, the Russians shipped arms valued at $6 million to the MPLA via Dar-es-Salaam. They also opened up a new route for arms deliveries via Congo-Brazzaville. Weapons were either shipped to the Congolese port of Pointe Noire, and then smuggled into the Cabinda enclave by truck, or flown into the Maya Maya air base, outside Brazzaville, and ferried into Angola by small vessels plying the deserted north-western coast or by small cargo planes.
At this stage, the Portuguese High Commissioner in Angola was Admiral Rosa Coutinho, the "Red Admiral", notorious for his pro-MPLA sympathies. Sources close to the leaders of the rival National Front for the Liberation of Angola (FNLA) claimed that the bitter hostility that Rosa Coutinho displayed towards the FNLA and its leader, Holden Roberto, was connected with the indignities inflicted on him when, as a young colonial army officer based at Santo Antonio de Zaire, he was captured by FNLA troops and imprisoned in Kinshasa for six months. Holden Roberto's brother-in-law is President Mobutu of Zaire.
Rocket Launchers for the MPLA
Whatever the explanation, Rosa Coutinho made no attempt to curb the delivery of Soviet-bloc weapons to the MPLA after he was appointed High Commissioner in 1974. His immediate successor, Air Force General Silva Cardoso, was less partisan. In April, 1975, he stopped a Yugoslav vessel from unloading its full cargo of arms in Luanda harbour, but the rest of the cargo got through, smuggled by fishing vessels and Soviet-made landing craft from Pointe Noire.
It fell to General Silva Cardoso (who was abruptly sacked in July, on the pretext of "physical and psychological exhaustion") to preside over the disintegration of the political formula for Angola's future that had been agreed on at a conference at Alvor in Portugal and signed on January 15, 1975. The three Angolan guerrilla movements were to have striven in a transitional Government to prepare for a general election on October 30, and independence on November 11. They were also supposed to provide 8,000 men each for a national defence force.
But the MPLA and its backers had no intention of sharing power with anyone, still less of holding general elections in which UNITA - because of its political base among the Ovimbundu peoples, the largest ethnic group in the country - would almost certainly have swept the board. Between April and August, 1975, Soviet-bloc arms flowed in through the ports of Luanda, Dar-es-Salaam and Pointe Noire, and the Russians also embarked on a major airlift of arms by Soviet military transports landing in Brazzaville.
The MPLA was being equipped for conventional war with rocket-launchers and with T-54 and T-34 tanks and field artillery. In contrast the FNLA and UNITA were still equipped with sidearms and little else. Although the CIA was authorised to spend $300,000 in covert support for the FNLA in January, 1975, supplies started to trickle through in significant quantities only in July - partly the result of holdups in Kinshasa, where the local officials are not famed for their efficiency or incorruptibility.
But it was no good supplying weapons without teaching the MPLA how to use them. In December, 1974, a large contingent of MPLA officers and NCOs had been flown to Russia for intensive training. But early in 1975 a more momentous decision was taken: to put Cuban instructors into Angola.
Cuba's Deputy Foreign Minister, Carlos Rafael Rodriguez, publicly admitted (in a speech in December, 1975) that there were already 230 Cuban military instructors in the MPLA in the spring of 1975. Some may have been transferred around this time to the fort of Massangano. On July 25 another 50 Cubans arrived by plane in Brazzaville to help assemble arms stocked at Pointe Noire.
Left-wing Portuguese officers who had visited Havana in July had undertaken (according to the Garcia Marquez version) to secure formal Portuguese approval for Cuban aid to the MPLA. In August the MPLA Defence Minister, Iko Carreira, visited Moscow and asked for Soviet troops to support his movement. The Russians immediately rejected his request, no doubt fearing American intervention, but it was suggested to Carreira that he should put the same request to the Cubans. Soon afterwards Carreira met three senior Cuban advisers in Luanda, and it became their task to sound out Castro.
Despite the involvement of the Cubans in other parts of Africa, the Middle East and the Caribbean, some well-placed Western sources believe that Castro did not immediately become fired with enthusiasm for this new prospect of ideological derring-do. His main fear was that the Americans would retaliate - possibly by direct action, or at least by a blockade, against Cuba. The pitiful state of the Cuban economy and the slender defence budget (a nominal $300 million a year) might have been another disincentive. But the Russians made it clear that they would be footing the bills, and are said to have offered secret assurances that they would enter the Angolan conflict directly in the event of American intervention.
At the same time, a series of radical black African Governments, including Guinea-Bissau, Guinea-Conakry, Mozambique, and the Congo-Brazzaville, plus Algeria, pressed Castro to send in troops.
First move made by the Cubans
Western intelligence sources believe that Castro had already decided on the full-scale invasion before Oscar Oramas, one of the Cuban advisers who had been to Luanda, met him in Havana in the last week of August to warn him of the possibility that the South Africans - who had kept closely in touch with both the FNLA and UNITA behind the scenes - might eventually step in on the side of the rival movements. In any event, the fact that the decision to commit Cuban troops to a combat role was taken long before November 5 (the date given by Garcia Marquez) is demonstrated by the course of events over the following weeks. Cuban troops went into battle in Angola two months in advance of the South Africans.
On August 16, 200 more Cuban instructors reached Luanda, where the MPLA was now in uncontested control. During August UNITA sources reported that some of the Cubans transferred south to Lobito and Benguela, where the Cubans established a training camp and a supply base. In the bitter fighting in which the MPLA seized control of Lobito, a traditional UNITA stronghold, that same month, "yellow-faced men who spoke Spanish" are said to have fought with the MPLA. In September, on the northern front, the FNLA found the bodies of two Cubans in a burned-out armoured car.
From late September, the arrival of Cuban troops steadily accelerated. As with the arms shipments, Congo-Brazzaville was the key transhipment point. President Marien Ngouabi was promised his reward for services rendered when he visited Havana in mid-September. Fidel Castro promised him some expensive military assistance, including the gift of six Soviet-built patrol boats (the Congo republic had only two), Soviet MiG fighters, and training in Cuba for Congolese commandos.
Pilots for the Soviet fighters
At Pointe Noire, war supplies were already being landed, stored and trans-shipped. On September 25 the Cuban vessel Vietnam Heroico docked at Pointe Noire with 20 armoured vehicles, 30 army trucks and 120 Cuban soldiers. On October 5 another Cuban ship, the Cerro Palado, docked with another 350 troops, who were taken by plane to the northern front.
Then La Playa de Habana docked on October 12 with another 500 troops. The previous day 270 Cubans, including pilots, had reached Brazzaville by air. On October 14 a Cuban Communist Party delegation turned up in Brazzaville and assured the MPLA that Cuba would provide the pilots to fly the MiG-21s and MiG-17s that were being supplied by Russia. That was the day that a South African armoured column crossed the Angolan border from its base headquarters at Runtu.
On October 16, Russian transport aircraft landed another 800 Cuban soldiers at Brazzaville. These and subsequent Soviet flights made use of landing rights at Algiers and Conakry. On October 18 and 19 the 500 Cubans who had sailed in La Playa de Habana were flown to Angola in Soviet military planes. The following day another 750 Cubans were landed at Novo Redondo, south of Luanda, by coastal vessels. On October 26, 160 Cubans landed at the Maya Maya air base and left the same day for Angola.
As Castro's men continued to arrive, the quantity and quality of the Soviet war material shipped to Pointe Noire increased spectacularly: MiG-21 jet fighters in parts (to be assembled in Congo-Brazzaville), tanks, armoured vehicles, rocket launchers and small arms. Many of these weapons were transferred to huge arms depots set up inside Angola, at Porto Amboin and Quicama, ready to be used by the Cuban reinforcements as they came in.
By Angola's independence day, November 11, there were at least 4,000 Cuban troops based in Angola. Some 2,500 of them were stationed in Luanda and on the Quifangondo front, where their presence enabled the MPLA to fight off the FNLA's drive towards the capital. Hence it is nonsense to make out that Cuba's decision to send in major combat units was taken only in early November, after South Africa's intervention.
In the two months after independence the strength of the Cuban forces in Angola was increased to over 15,000. Some of the troops came from the special infantry of the Interior Ministry (the equivalent of the KGB's special troops, who are experts in internal repression), but more were "volunteers", drawn from the ranks of former national servicemen, who were offered substantial pay increases to make the trip. Not everyone was told that he was going to war.
Sergeant Esequiel Mustelier, a 23-year old small farmer from Oriente province, who was captured by the South Africans in the Cariango area on December 10, claimed that he had left Angola on what he believed to be a peaceful mission, to build schools in Angola.
Carlos Maru Mesa, and Roberto Morales Bellma, taken prisoner on December 12, claimed they had left Cuba believing that they were being sent on a political course in Russia.
The Barbadian Connection
How did the Cuban troop-planes get to Angola? The favourite refuelling point for the Russian-made Ilyushins and British-built Britannias leaving Jose Marti airport between october and mid-December, 1975, was Barbados. Security at Seawell airport was slack, it was a long way outside the capital, Bridgetown, and few people seemed to have noticed the night flights in the first few weeks. Barbados is one of the few places in the Caribbean where there is still a largely carefree mood, and where officials are apt to think the best rather than the worst of all comings and goings.
It is not clear whether the Barbadian Government gave the green light. But the then Prime Minister, Mr. Errol Barrow, conceded in an interview with The Sunday Telegraph that there may have been as many as 50 flights before he was forced to lodge a formal protest with the Cubans on December 17. Other observers say that at the height of the airlift there were between 10 and 15 flights a week, and as many as five in a single night. It is impossible to believe that Mr. Barrow's Government did not know from very early on about these mysterious planes.
American pressure finallt stopped the flights, although there was a wrangle within the American Embassy at the time over how much pressure should be applied. The black American Ambassador, Theodore Britton, was accused by the head of his political section of trying to "ingratiate" himself with Barrow.
This official, William Diedrich, has claimed that Mr. Britton failed to take a firm line on the troop movements. Diedrich was moved from Barbados after what he calls "a difference of opinion" with the Ambassador.
He maintains that it was clearly a military airlift, but the Barbadian authorities prevaricated by telling the Americans they were investigating. Diedrich also says that the Ambassador was "not taken in" but rather than show greater firmness he appeared to accept what Barrow told him.
Barrow told The Sunday Telegraph that he was unaware of the true nature of the Cubana flights. He also insisted that the Cubans had never made any kind of approach to him seeking permission to send their troop planes through Barbados.
What does not seem to be in dispute is that each plane carried about 100 men. They were wearing civilian clothing but were carrying briefcases containing weapons. The baggage holds of the aircraft reportedly carried loads of small arms, light artillery, small cannons and mortars.
After the Barbados connection was cut off, the Cubans turned to Eric Williams, the Prime Minister of Trinidad, for the same facilities. But he refused, on the ground that he was not ready to back foreign intervention in Angola. However, the Cubans soon found more amenable countries.
The Portuguese played a key part in getting the Cubans to Angola around Christmas, 1975. Britannia-31s flown by Cubana de Aviacion were allowed refuelling facilities at the airbase on the island of Santa Maria in the Azores. The pattern was the same with five flights in the last days of December: the Cubans would land at night with their internal lights dimmed, and without declaring their cargo. No passengers would disembark.
But Portuguese military intelligence officers established that the flight from Havana on December 20 contained 94 passengers en route to Guinea-Bissau. Another 259 passengers were on four succeeding flights.
Senior Portuguese officers say that American pressure finally persuaded the Portuguese to cut off refuelling facilities, which had been initially granted on the personal authority of the then President, General Costa Gomes.
The tremendous logistical exercise that was mounted to get the Cubans and their equipment to Angola went virtually unreported at the time, and Western intelligence services were sometimes slow to pick up definite news of some of the key items that were being smuggled in. But the Cubans ran into plenty of snags along the way. Some of the small coasters used to trans-ship arms and men from the Congo republic into northern Angola were sabotaged: two were blown up by Portuguese agents in contact with the French intelligence service, and at least three more were blown up by South African commandos.
What was life like at the front for a Cuban gunner or rifleman - typically, a farm labourer or textile worker of 22 or 23 who had started his national service at the age of 16? The diary of a young soldier who was posted to an area near Quibala, the scene of the biggest battles that took place in Angola in December 1975, gave some insights.
He left Havana on "a huge plane" on November 4 (the day before Castro - according to his apologists - gave the order to invade Angola) and his flight took 28 hours. "They forbid us to take any documents or any proof of our identity," he noted in the first entry in the diary, "but everyone knows that there are Cubans in Angola."
One of the first things that struck him was the quantity of arms and ammunition stockpiled for the invading force. "I was fascinated with all the weapons that were lying around there, without belonging to anyone. It's just unreal, the amount of money which is wasted in war, and just for peanuts." Unlike many of his colleagues, it seems that he was a Christian, since he was shocked by the discovery in "a small deserted church which was abandoned by the Portuguese" of "a lot of English magazines with naked women."
Within a week or two of his arrival, he was complaining about the poor fighting quality of his MPLA allies. On November 21 he noted that "this morning, two of our armoured cars and a truck were unexpectedly destroyed by the enemy, while they were on patrol. These Angolans are really careless."
Two days later he was complaining that the blacks were unwilling to dig foxholes at night, even though the enemy guns were dug in nearby. The following day, the Cuban/MPLA forces suffered heavy losses: "38 killed, hundreds of prisoners, eight armoured cars destroyed and many people wounded."
As the campaign progressed, food, hygiene and wild rumours about the savagery of the enemy became nagging preoccupations. "These past few days, the food has not been sufficient for us, but thanks to God there are a lot of cattle around here. I found a bow and arrow, so I used it to hunt just like the primitive tribes used to do." Since UNITA controlled the richest agricultural lands in Angola throughout most of the campaign, the MPLA and its Cuban allies often went hungry - although the fact that the Cubans received airlifts of such delicacies as Hungarian sausage and East German pickles was a constant irritant for their black comrades.
Like any front-line soldier, the Cuban was soon worrying about hygiene. On December 1 he noted, "While in bed I killed 52 fleas. Yes, I counted them because they are like wild beasts, and they bit." By this stage, he had at least acquired a black girl to bring him coffee and other comforts.
On November 29 he was worrying about rumours that 18 Cuban prisoners had been eaten alive by black soldiers on the other side. "The news came from two or three of our troops who managed to escape." Similar stories had currency on both sides throughout the war. As the Cuban's diary indicates later on, the Cubans found it expedient to circulate rumours about enemy savagery in order to prevent their black auxiliaries from running away.
It was a war in which there were few creature-comforts, apart from the occasional cache of Angolan wine put away by some white settler who had taken flight. But the Cubans, officer and man, had one luxury: a weekly ration of 20 Havana cigars or cigarettes if they preferred.
The Cubans took some very hard knocks. At the Battle of Bridge 14, in the area north of Santa Comba on December 9, they lost 90 men. At a battle near Quibala on December 14 another 50 Cubans were killed. The seriously wounded Cuban soldiers were flown out to East Germany for treatment - apparently in order not to demoralise the people at home. Stories were current among the men in the field of refrigerator ships that were sent to take away the bodies of Cuban dead.
The Cubans' combat performance in Angola did little to create a Vietcong-type of myth of invincibility - at least among those who know what the fighting was really like. Nor did the propaganda talk about "revolutionary solidarity" or Castro's efforts to make out that there was some special affinity between the Angolan and Cuban peoples ("African blood runs in our veins") enable the expeditionary force to avoid friction with the people it was supposedly helping. Cuban prisoners were forthright in their views about their Angolan allies.
Standard complaints were that the MPLA were poorly trained and "a band of cowards." MPLA prisoners said many Cubans were "racists" who insisted on privileges denied to the black troops and who ruthlessly shot any black soldier who tried to retreat after his officers had already fled. Such tensions are still simmering. There was a report earlier this month of a clash in a barracks in southern Angola in which 10 Cubans were killed by the MPLA.
Castro's African safari has not ended with Angola. He made that plain in a speech on July 26, 1976, in which he declared that "Cuban military units and the necessary weapons have remained in Angola... This will continue as long as necessary...And Cuban soldiers will fight shoulder to shoulder with the Angolan people again." In Rhodesia? In South West Africa? In South Africa, the primary target of Communist aggression in the African continent?
A fresh effort is now under way - through articles, books and films - to depict the Cuban troops in Angola as conquering heroes fired with love of the cause, before whom the enemy lines opened up like the Red Sea.
The truth, as succeeding articles will show, was somewhat different. The Cubans outnumbered the South African forces in Angola by 10 to one. Thanks to Soviet largesse, the pro-Moscow forces outgunned the anti-Communist forces by more than 10 to one, and had MiG fighters available to boot. Yet the Cubans "won" only in the sense that South Africa felt politically obliged to withdraw, while black anti-Communist guerrillas fight on.
It was a victory nonetheless. It taught us that in the great world conflict for which Angola was only one of the battlefields, victory or defeat depends on political will.
HOW SOUTH AFRICA TOOK ON CASTRO'S INVADERS
by Robert Moss
The Communist invasion of Angola posed a challenge to the West. Would anyone take it up? Or would Cuban troops and Soviet guns enable a Marxist movement with only minority backing in the northern part of the country to set up a dictatorship?
The prospect was far from palatable to most of black Africa. Moderate or pro-Western leaders like Kenneth Kaunda of Zambia, Mobutu of Zaire or Senghor of Senegal had no desire to see a new Soviet puppet regime set up in Angola. Zambia and Zaire, both dependent on the Benguela railway, feared that the Communists would then use economic pressure to change their own policies, and that Angola would be turned into a base for subversion.
Equally, Angola's mineral wealth (especially in diamonds, iron ore and the oil from Cabinda) and its strategic position made it of vital concern to Western Governments. But Angola mattered in a deeper sense, as a place where the Russians had set out the capacity of post- Vietnam America to respond to Communist aggression in far-flung places. Before the end of the conflict, most Western nations - America, Britain, France, West Germany, Italy, Spain and Israel - had contributed their mite to the anti-Soviet forces in Angola.
There was a CIA operations officer in Silva Porto, UNITA's headquarters, throughout the war. British Intelligence and private interests - especially Tanganyika Concessions and Lonrho, which loaned UNITA its pilots - remained in close liaison with UNITA and arranged delivery of smaller items such as radio equipment. UNITA leaders frequently came to London for medical treatment and to lobby British MPs. When the South Africans withdrew their instructors from Silva Porto, French "mercenaries" working for SDECE (the French MI6) took over; in many ways, the French were more adventurous than any other Western power. The Spanish provided a safe base in Europe for the white Portuguese fighting with the FNLA, who were given false papers by the police.
Intelligence officers from all these countries met - sometimes at remote airstrips - to compare their inventories, and to check that they were not duplicating arms supplies.
It was left to South Africa to shoulder the heaviest burden, by providing instructors, advisers and finally an armoured column in a desperate bid to lower the odds against the black nationalists, who were fighting a losing battle against Cuban troops and big guns from Russia. No one thanked the South Africans for what they tried to do. On the contrary, it earned them a smack in the teeth from the UN Security Council on March 31, 1976, months after their combat troops had withdrawn.
Guarantees from the Americans
Yet, as South Africa's Defence Minister, Mr. Botha, pointed out in a speech to Parliament, his country was at least a part of Africa, unlike Cuba, and presumably had some right to concern itself with events across its borders.
But the key fact about South Africa's intervention was one that neither Mr. Botha nor any other senior official in Pretoria has ever been prepared to discuss. It is that when South Africans went into Angola, they went in with the private blessing of many Western and black African Governments, and at the urgent invitation of the black nationalist movements in Angola. At one stage, for example, President Mobutu of Zaire actually implored the South Africans to bomb northern MPLA positions. The UNITA leader, Jonas Savimbi, flew to Pretoria at a critical stage in the war to beg Mr. Vorster to keep his troops in Angola. The South Africans also went in with the encouragement of Dr. Kissinger, who offered American guarantees that, in the event, he was unable to fulfil.
How did the South Africans get sucked into a black civil war? The story begins in March, 1975, when a senior South African intelligence officer met Jonas Savimbi in a European capital. At a meeting in Lusaka on April 14 Savimbi asked for small arms and cash to enable his movement to contribute to the joint black army that was supposed to be set up under independence, and so help to establish a military balance that could force the pro-Soviet MPLA to agree to hold elections.
The South Africans - like other Western Governments - were worried by the jealousies between UNITA and its rivals of FNLA, the third black faction in Angola, and urged Savimbi to establish a formal alliance with Holden Roberto, its leader. Savimbi was reluctant, complaining of gangsterish behaviour and "anti-white" attitudes among the FNLA chiefs. The South Africans rejected his request and allowed contact to lapse for several months. (Savimbi found other backers in the meantime - including the Chinese, who supplied seven tons of arms in the first half of 1975.)
The South Africans had also been approached by Holden Roberto, through Portuguese intermediaries such as Colonel Santos e Castro, a respected former counter-insurgency fighter who had been a provincial governor in Angola and was to become a key figure in the anti- Communist movement in both Portugal and Angola. Their first meeting with Roberto took place in Kinshasa in July. On the strength of Roberto's undertaking to consolidate an alliance with Savimbi the South Africans agreed to give the FNLA a shipment of mostly second-hand light machine-guns, rifles and mortars, which arrived in August.
A third meeting towards the end of August, in UNITA-held territory inside Angola, when a senior South African army general was present, set the scene for South Africa's entry into the war. The South African Army agreed to provide instructors. Two training camps were set up: one for UNITA at Calombo, south of Silva Porto, another for the FNLA forces loyal to Daniel Chipenda at Mpupa, in southern Angola. Crash courses at these camps enabled the anti-Soviet movements to put 6,000 trained (or at least partly trained) men into the field in six weeks.
A platoon of South African soldiers had already been deployed inside Angola, around the Calueque hydro-electric works on the Cunene River on August 9. But this was a purely defensive exercise, intended to guard the Cunene Dam and hydro-electric scheme, which supplied energy to the major towns of southern Angola, from marauding gangs. The South Africans later claimed that their intervention here had had the tacit approval of the Portuguese.
Dr. Hilgard Muller, the South African Foreign Minister, later said that South Africa's entry on to the battlefield had had "a limited objective" - that of gaining time for the rival forces in Angola, with the catalyst of diplomatic pressure from black Africa, to achieve a political settlement.
The army's instructions were to assist Savimbi's and Roberto's forces to regain control of the areas of southern and central Angola where they enjoyed traditional ethnic support, and above all to help UNITA to hold on to its capital, Nova Lisbon, which was threatened by the Cuban and MPLA forces. The hope was that, if the anti-Soviet forces were seen to be in a position of strength on November 11, the day of independence, the MPLA and its sponsors would be forced to make a treaty with them and abandon their plan for outright conquest.
'Brothers' for the UNITA troops
As it turned out, the astonishing military success of the tiny South African column in Angola offered the chance of something more: an outright military victory over the Communists. But the chance was rejected.
Even for a black leader who was as consummate a politician as Jonas Savimbi, the relationship with the South Africans was uneasy at first. After all, he had been fighting the Portuguese in the bush for years, only to end up with the country whose apartheid policy was the focus for the hatred and resentment of black nationalists everywhere as his ally. But he soon found a close friend and confidant in the young fair-haired paratroop colonel who landed in Silva Porto on September 21, 1975.
The South African was no newcomer to Angola. He had served as a military attache with the South African embassy in Luanda between 1970 and 1973, and spoke fluent Portuguese. Savimbi's men took to calling the South African Commandant Kaas (which means "Commander Cheese") because of his fair complexion and the fact that he came from a Dutch family, and Kaas called Savimbi "the Docter" or simply "Doc".
The major had arrived with a team of 18 infantry corps instructors, who were soon described in the UNITA camps simply as "the brothers". Their orders were to provide training in conventional warfare for UNITA troops, and to help UNITA establish a holding position in central Angola.
The South African team arrived at a moment when the pro-Soviet forces had seized control of all the major towns in Angola except Nova Lisboa, Silva Porto, Luso and Holden Roberto's capital, Carmona, in the north, and Daniel Chipenda's capital, Serpa Pinto, in the south-east. The Communists held all major ports, and were driving deep into the Ovimbundu tribal areas traditionally controlled by UNITA.
Commandant Kaas found himself in charge of a disused Portuguese gaol and 1000-odd enthusiastic UNITA recruits, mostly aged between 14 and 20. He set up a two weeks' training course, working the recruits day and night. His personal headquarters were at the airfield outside Silva Porto.
UNITA was desperately short of weapons, and the shortage was made worse by sheer disorganisation. It was not until after independence day, for example, that Commandant Kaas discovered a cache of 600 light machine guns that someone had hidden away in the bush and then forgotten. All UNITA's weapons and explosives were piled up together in a few mud huts in Silva Porto, and UNITA commanders as far away as Pereira d'Eca would have to trek north to be resupplied. The explanation was political. Savimbi was well aware that one way to prevent remote subordinates from developing into unruly warlords was to leave them in no doubt about where their next bullets would come from.
UNITA had other foreign helpers, although they were of uneven value. Agents from most Western Powers bobbed up in Silva Porto throughout the campaign, and were put up in relatively palatial former Portuguese residences, or in the former monastery. President Mobutu of Zaire not only sent six old Panhard armoured cars (whose electric clutch defeated inexperienced drivers) but 120 smartly turned out soldiers as well.
Pretoria's Order: 'Hold Back'
Their appearance, however, was no guide to their combat potential. They spent most of their time preying on the local girls, and when real fighting was in the offing, they took to removing the steering wheels from the armoured cars overnight in order to prevent any offensive being launched. Savimbi and Commandant Kaas managed to stop this practice by making it plain to the Zairean major in charge that his men were not expected to do any actual fighting. Although Savimbi was pressed to send the Zaireans back, he prevaricated, unwilling to offend Mobutu. However, UNITA took great care to lock up abandoned shops and warehouses and guard them against possible looters.
The crucial mission of the South African advisers with Savimbi was to stop the Communist forces from advancing on Nova Lisboa down one of the three main roads that were open to them: from Luanda to the north, and from Benguela and Lobito to the west. A UNITA column under Savimbi's command set out on October 4 to ward off a reported Communist thrust from the west, and clashed with the Cubans and the MPLA three days later.
After the battle the UNITA forces set up defensive positions to the west of Nova Lisboa and Commandant Kaas radioed an urgent request for reinforcements. He was sent a squadron of 22 armoured cars, airlifted to Silva Porto on big C-130 transports. It was tempting to strike north to the Cuanza River with this new force, but the orders from Pretoria were to hold back. Word had already come of the arrival of another South African force in the south of the country.
One evening in late October, Major Chindondo, the UNITA Chief-of-Staff, arrived breathless and excited at the training camp. He had come to alert Commandant Kaas, to reports that the enemy was advancing towards Nova Lisboa in great strength from the north, and was massed in the Quibala area.
Commandant Kaas assembled most of his armoured cars and a UNITA battalion in a column, code-named Foxbat, which struck north and eventually took up defensive positions in the Cela area. It was here, on November 7, that the UNITA forces bagged one of their biggest quarries. The MPLA advance was being led by a senior Cuban officer, driving a black Citroen. A South African gunner fired at his car with a 106mm gun, and he was killed.
The Foxbat column was ordered to hold a line about 30km north of Nova Lisboa until independence day - although in military terms it would have had little difficulty in advancing to the line of the Cuanza River, 270km further north. The political directive was that the South Africans should not go beyond traditional UNITA territory, and should be ready to withdraw on November 11.
Meanwhile, another South African column drove over the border of South West Africa into Angola on October 14. The code-name given to it by the South African high command was Operation Zulu, which apparently confused the Cubans. There were, indeed, more black South Africans than white in the columns, but there were certainly no Zulus.
The officer in command was a stocky colonel in his early forties, an Afrikaner from the Cape Province who had graduated from the military academy in Saldanha Bay and had volunteered to serve in Angola at the beginning of the month. He was to earn the nickname "Rommel" from his comrades because of the extraordinary speed of the column's advance.
He was alerted at 9.30 p.m. on October 9 that he should get ready to leave Pretoria for the operational headquarters at Rundu, on the Angolan border, on a 7 a.m. flight the following morning. At Rundu he discovered that his force was to consist of two battalions: a Bushman battalion, mainly recruited from the Caprivi strip, and including many Bushmen who had fought for the Portuguese as skirmishers and trackers, together with Portuguese ex-army officers; and a black FNLA battalion consisting of about 1,000 men divided into three companies and commanded by a mulatto, Commandant Businha.
The FNLA men were followers of Daniel Chipenda, the warlord whose headquarters was at Serpa Pinto. Chipenda had broken away from the MPLA a year before and his loyalty could never entirely be taken for granted by his new allies.
"Rommel" had only six South African officers and seven N.C.O.s to help him command his force. From the outset they had a language problem. Half the Bushmen spoke Portuguese; the other half (recruited in South West Africa) spoke Afrikaans. So orders would be issued to their Afrikaner commanding officer in Afrikaans. He would then repeat them in English to the Portuguese officers, who in turn would translate them into Portuguese. It was a process that would have been merely tedious on the parade-ground, but on the battlefield it presented the risk of fatal confusion and delay.
"Rommel’s" orders were to capture all the important centres along the coast that he could reach before independence day on November 11, within the ethnic areas where support for the UNITA and the FNLA was strongest. He was to make it clear to the civilian population that his was a UNITA/FNLA column; some Portuguese settlers wrongly imagined that they had come to restore the old order.
A shoot-out in the bar
When the column crossed the border at Cuangar on October 14 it included only civilian vehicles - lorries, vegetable trucks, private cars and a few Land-Rovers. The first target was the southern town of Pereira d’Eca, which had already changed hands several times. The column ran into light resistance from MPLA ambush parties using RPG-7 anti-tank rockets along the road (and also from UNITA foragers who had not yet been notified of Operation Zulu) but when it got to the town, most of the defenders fled into the bush.
This was to become the pattern throughout much of the campaign. MPLA soldiers took to wearing civilian clothes under their uniforms so that, once driven out of their positions, they could drop their rifles, whip off their military gear, and merge into the civilian population.
The column occupied Pereira d’Eca so quickly that MPLA troops on the outskirts were not immediately aware that the town had changed owners. Commandant Businha was having a celebratory drink in a local bar when two MPLA soldiers came in. He whirled around, took one look at them, and gave the MPLA salute (two fingers up). When they responded, he fired from the hip with his F.N., killing both.
The condition of Pereira d’Eca gave a glimpse of what the South Africans were to find in the bigger towns, gutted by a black civil war. Most of the buildings had been sacked; the shops looted down to the floorboards. Local UNITA forces were brought in to restore basic services.
From Pereira d’Eca the column swung north-west towards Rocadas where it was joined on October 20 by four troops of armoured cars (about 20 in all) and half a platoon of 81mm. mortars, sent over the border from South- West Africa. The column also gained some more exotic recruits at Rocadas. It was met by a band of 47 Portuguese led by a small dapper captain with a twirled moustache called Aparicio, who proudly announced that he and his followers were members of the Portuguese Liberation Army (ELP) and that they intended to drive the Communists out of Angola before carrying the crusade to Portugal itself. Aparicio quickly acquired the nickname "Garibaldi" with the South Africans. Unfortunately his group proved to be bolder in promises than in deeds, and never went further than Sa da Bandeira.
Two days later, the strengthened column, now led by a Land-Rover with a machine-gun mounted on top, swept into the town of Joao de Almeida. This was more vigorously defended; it had been used as a major MPLA storage depot, and large quantities of food, equipment and propaganda materials were captured.
Now the road was clear for the assault on Sa da Bandeira, the capital of Huila province, which was still believed to contain a sizeable white population. "Rommel’s" main worry now was that the MPLA would pull back inside the town, putting the civilians at risk, but the defences turned out to be concentrated at outlying positions, especially a hill called Monte Cristo Rei because of the large statue of Christ on its summit.
The Zulu forces struck first at the airfield (standard procedure throughout the offensive since the column was basically air-supplied) and then sent troops to scale the Monte Cristo Rei by stealth on the night of October 24. They found that the MPLA had already withdrawn, together with their big guns. This again was part of the pattern of the campaign so that as Zulu drove farther north it ran into even heavier firepower.
Ambush from rocket-launchers
It was left to Captain Garibaldi and his Liberators to clear Sa da Bandeira. Joined by another troop of Panhard armoured cars and another half-platoon of 81mm. mortars, the South Africans’ next target was the major southern port of Mocamedes. On the way the column came under fire from 122mm. single-tube rocket-launchers, an ideal weapon for ambush, very light, easy to handle, and capable of being fired from an ordinary car.
The column managed to fight its way through and occupied the harbour of Mocamedes on the evening of October 27. There was an interesting variety of shipping bobbing at anchor, including a Portuguese navy corvette and Portuguese, Greek and Italian merchant vessels. The South Africans believed that these ships had been bringing arms - and probably Cuban troops as well - to Mocamedes, and were now being loaded up for a mass evacuation. They also knew that Nord-Atlas aircraft, allegedly owned by Frelimo in Mozambique, had been flying troops and equipment out of Mocamedes in advance of the Zulu offensive.
As the sun set over the harbour roads, a red Fiat coupe with a white flag fluttering from its bonnet drove out of the town towards "Rommel’s" improvised command post. It had two occupants: the Portuguese captain in command of the 150 paratroops in the town, and a naval officer from the corvette. They requested that the ships in the harbour should be allowed to leave, on the grounds that they were evacuating refugees. The captain also insisted that his paratroops wanted to have nothing to do with the war. "We are neutrals," he insisted. "My role here is to guard the lives and property of the refugees."
It was later discovered that he was not telling the whole truth. Unknown to the Zulu force, the communications centre at Silva Porto had already picked up an urgent radio signal from the Portuguese command in Mocamedes to Luanda, requesting that MPLA reinforcements should be sent at once. It was also confirmed later that at the time Zulu arrived, a Soviet vessel had been waiting outside the harbour, bearing more arms and ammunition.
Pulling out without a fight
Although he could see barges laden with MPLA men plying back and forth between the harbour and the ships at anchor, "Rommel" decided to grant the vessels permission to leave. He also told the navy officer that if the corvette had not left by dawn it would be blown out of the water - pure bluff, since the South Africans had no means of blowing it up.
By first light on October 28 the corvette had gone. Although there had been intensive fire the previous night, when MPLA and Cuban forces occupied a ridge outside the town and kept up an intensive and accurate fire with 122mm. rockets, there was little resistance inside the town itself. Advance units reached the airport (south of the city) too late to prevent the take-off of a Nord-Atlas carrying MPLA leaders, Cuban advisers and some heavy weapons. Although no Cubans were actually sighted during the fighting around Mocamedes, the precision firing was the clue to their presence.
After local UNITA forces were established in control of Mocamedes, the column turned back to Sa da Bandeira to regroup for the main assault on the north. There were reports that the MPLA was probing south from its positions at Benguela and Lobito - a primary objective for the South African operation as the country’s second port and its most important railhead.
The rainy season was beginning, flooding rivers and turning the lowland areas farther north into swamp. From now on, the campaign was to centre on bridges and river-crossings. Control of all-weather roads became the key to victory or defeat.
On the road from Sa da Bandeira to Benguela, the Zulu column ran into a series of extremely well-prepared MPLA positions. The influence of the Cubans - who showed themselves in the war to be well-trained in preparing and holding static positions, although inept fighters when things failed to go according to plan - was now obvious at every stage along the way.
The first major clash on the road to Benguela took place at Caporolo at the end of October. Here the Cubans and MPLA had set up their guns on a hill overlooking a bridge. "Rommel" sent his Bushmen westward along the river to look for a ford they could cross in order to take the enemy by surprise from behind. The Bushmen went too far, missing the ford. In the meantime, one of the Panhards nosed too far forward along the main road, disclosing the column’s position.
To the South Africans’ astonishment, the enemy forces simply picked up their equipment and ran - but not before trying to blow up the bridge. The explosive charges had all been set, but the last man who had checked the circuit on the detonator had forgotten to reconnect the wire. The South Africans drove on across the bridge, and pushed on to Catengue, where the roads from Benguela and Nova Lisboa intersect. It was time to take stock and find out where the enemy was.
A party was sent eastward on the Nova Lisboa road, where MPLA units were reported to be advancing towards Catengue. A South African lieutenant called Jan, blackened from many months in the bushveld along the South-West African border, and with flowing hair and beard, drove in the leading Land-Rover. He drove straight into an advancing MPLA convoy, led by officers using Mercedes-Benz and Citroen cars "borrowed" from the Portuguese.
He was saved by the fact that the MPLA took one look at him and imagined he was a Cuban. "Donde estan los companeros?" someone asked. Jan grunted, waved behind him down the road, and put two fingers up in the approved MPLA style. The MPLA grinned and drove by - and Jan opened up on them with a .50 Browning machine-gun.
He subsequently set up an ambush post on the road from which he was able to knock off no fewer than seven MPLA cars in succession with a 90mm. gun. They just kept coming on like moths into the flames, without any prior reconnaissance.
Three MPLA men were captured and made to strip and dig graves for the next victims of the ambush. Jan bore the nickname of "the Cuban" for the rest of the campaign.
Meanwhile, reconnaissance parties established that a major Cuban/MPLA force had dug in a few kilometres farther up the Benguela road, with 15 or 20 mortars. The mortars sowed terror among the troops when the Zulu column tried to break through on November 2. The black troops refused to face the mortars, and the column was pinned down for six hours, under a ferocious concentration of fire. The black FNLA gunners, for their part, returned the MPLA barrage by firing off their own mortars so rapidly (25 rounds a minute instead of the normal two) that their guns burned out and the barrels grew so hot that when a round was inserted, it would ignite immediately. There were many severe burns. The road was finally cleared after scouts from the Zulu force found a trail winding round the south of the enemy position. An advance group was sent to try to cut off the MPLA line of retreat but, as before, the enemy beat a hasty retreat.
Once again, luck saved the bridge for the Zulu column. Cuban engineers had run a wire back from the bridge for some 2,000 metres to the detonator. Everything was set for demolition, and the South Africans were astonished that the bridge did not go up in flames. By a fluke, one of their mortar rounds had cut the wire.
At the Catengue battlefield, the South Africans picked up another clue to the Cuban presence: an intelligence map marked in Spanish. They captured seven prisoners, who told them that there was a large camp outside Benguela with some 350 Cubans.
After Catengue, the MPLA and their Cuban friends bolted north, leaving neatly-dug trenches and even big ammunition dumps in their wake.
Just south of Benguela, the column found another camp, which turned out to have been the main Cuban base in the area.
The Zulu force was now ready for the assault on Benguela. It numbered about 150 white South Africans with their Panhards, together with the loyal Bushmen and the FNLA battalion, reduced to some 450 blacks and 80 white Portuguese. The attack began on November 4, just a week before independence day, and the airfield to the south-east of the town was seized without resistance.
But now something happened that the South Africans had feared all along: the MPLA and the Cubans pulled their forces back into the city itself. Simultaneously, they opened up a murderous barrage with half-a-dozen rocket launchers, dug in on the other side of Benguela, as well as intensive small-arms fire from the native huts on the outskirts of the town. The column was pinned down at the airport for 26 hours.
For the first time during his almost uninterrupted advance, "Rommel" was faced with a dilemma. His mortars had a maximum range of only about five kilometres, while the enemy batteries were at least 7-8km. away, and the Soviet-made 122s had a range of up to 14km. He could not risk firing into the town, nor could he advance with his armoured cars and allow the enemy to snipe at them from close range. Meanwhile, the deafening thud of the enemy rockets was terrifying his men.
From his command post in the airport control tower "Rommel" finally hit on a solution. He sent his mortars round the eastern outskirts of the town, gambling on getting them within striking distance of the enemy positions before the Cuban rangefinders could get a fix on them.
He succeeded because the enemy imagined that he had: when the South African mortars opened up, they were still several hundred metres too far away from their targets. However, the enemy commander must have concluded that the South Africans were merely ranging in, because the Cubans and their rocket-launchers pulled out immediately. The mortar companies inside Benguela followed suit.
The battle for Benguela had offered a warning: good soldiering could not always make up for the disadvantages of being outgunned, least of all in a war where the black troops on both sides showed a marked preference for fighting as far away as possible from the enemy lines. "Rommel" radioed back to Rundu with an urgent request for field artillery to match the MPLA’s longer-range weapons.
On November 7 the Zulu force drove on to Lobito. The population was largely pro-UNITA, and the Cubans and the MPLA pulled out without fighting. After Lobito had been seized by the pro-Soviet forces, UNITA had been able to keep in close contact with its cadres inside the town by telephone; no steps had been taken to cut off the most obvious form of communication.
The Zulu force stayed at Lobito until independence day. "Rommel" expected to be recalled on November 11, in accordance with his original orders. But the orders were changed. Bloodier fighting lay ahead.
Battle of Death Road
by Robert Moss
The last representative of the Portuguese empire in Africa, Admiral Leonel Cardoso, the High Commissioner of Angola, decided not to stay for the country’s independence celebrations on November 11, 1975. He watched the Portuguese flag being lowered over the 16th-century fort of Sao Miguel in Luanda, declared that "Portugal is departing without a feeling of guilt or shame" - and scuttled to the safety of the frigate riding at anchor in the harbour.
Five centuries of colonial rule ended as MPLA troops swarmed into the admiral’s palace. Portugal, he said, had handed over power to "the six million Angolan people."
While the Marxists in Luanda hailed Agostinho Neto as Angola’s first black president, the supporters of the two anti-Soviet movements, UNITA and the FNLA, danced in the streets of Nova Lisboa (renamed Huambo) and Ambriz. The MPLA was quickly able to boast the diplomatic recognition of the Soviet bloc, the Marxist African states and capitalist Brazil. Meanwhile UNITA and FNLA proclaimed their own State, the "Peoples’ Democratic Republic," and claimed that they controlled 11 of Angola’s 16 provinces.
With the South African column code-named Zulu waiting at Lobito for its marching orders and with FNLA forces threatening Luanda from positions less than 19 miles to its north, the anti-Communist forces enjoyed clear military superiority. But their advantage was rapidly eroded after November 11 by the continued build-up of Cuban combat forces and Soviet weaponry, and the failure of the Western Powers to respond to it.
One glittering opportunity had been lost on the very eve of independence, in a savage battle for the capital. While South Africa’s "Rommel," the colonel commanding Operation Zulu, was striking north to Benguela and Lobito, the FNLA was pushing south in a desperate attempt to seize Luanda before independence day. The FNLA had been driven out of the capital in July, when the MPLA launched a surprise attack, in which Portuguese pilots - flying civilian airplanes of the Portuguese-Angolan airline, TAAG - had flown reconnaissance missions. But by early November, the Marxists’ position in Luanda was no longer secure.
Fighting around Dondo to the south, where the hydro-electric plant that supplied the capital’s electicity is located, resulted in blackouts. Luanda’s water supply was also cut off for days. Further, the anti-Soviet forces had managed to isolate the capital from its food supplies; the richest farming lands were securely in UNITA hands. There seemed to be a chance that the defenders of Luanda could be starved into submission.
Meanwhile by November 6 a column of some 800 black FNLA troops, reinforced by 130 white Portuguese led by Colonel Gilberto Santos e Castro and Major Cardoso - a brilliant irregular fighter and a former officer of Salazar’s secret police, the PIDE - and three Zairean battalions led by a Zairean colonel had advanced as far as Caxito, a strategic crossroads 31 miles north of Luanda. Holden Roberto, the mulatto leader of the FNLA, his eyes permanently masked by dark glasses, had taken personal charge of the column and was poised for an assault on Luanda. It was timed for November 10, the eve of independence.
But from the start of the attack things went wrong. The FNLA column had advanced to the area of the Bengo river, and was supposed to strike across the bridge over it at first light on November 10. But the orders got garbled, officers overslept, and the attack did not start until 7.45 a.m.
It was the direction of the attack rather than its timing that doomed it from the start. Facing Holden Roberto’s men, on the other side of the Bengo river, was a force of some 800 Cubans. The MPLA soldiers with them were commanded by Cubans right down to section level.
The Cubans were we