Waiting on the barbarians (a reply to C.P. Cavafy)
Called up for armed military service
hundreds of thousands white boys
are forced into a war
of whom I am but a single one
and with all battles won and even the war,
with the enemy forces shattered,
thousands of Cubans killed,
almost a hundred enemy tanks shot out,
hundreds of enemy armoured cars destroyed,
even the soviets admitting that no victory
against us is possible
the man with the bold polished head
doesn’t surrender, doesn’t even sell out,
no, he gives the whole country away
and gets a Nobel Prize for it
he opens the prison doors for the leaders
of bomb planting killers
to walk to freedom
and we and the world expect the barbarians
who used burning tires as necklaces
to appear
and out steps a man, dignified
and also receives a Nobel Prize
for his charity
and now years later the damage is done
with affirmative action
and nobody that is white who still has a job
realizes the impact of it,
that it is just another kind of racial discrimination
and slowly but surely in the long run
every white person is forced to into poverty
and the bold man sees himself
as a hero,
is viewed as a type of messiah by some
and the utmost traitor by others
and I wonder where the barbarians are
who torched living people?
Since they did not come but for one
who was the leader of our own ranks
whose actions are forcing everyone
slowly but surely into the gutter
and now the present government
wants to implement a law
to take away freedom of speech
to quench, to sensor, to scrap all poems all stories,
all news articles like this.
[Reference: Waiting on the Barbarians by C.P. Cavafy.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Victory will be surely theirs
Victory will be surely theirs.
Without victory they will never get back
their lost homes.
Victory will be surely theirs.
For, without victory they will never be able
to sleep with their loved ones by their side.
In the middle of the night every tanks
will encircle their refugee camps,
snatch their adolescent boys and girls
from their mothers’ shelter,
bind their eyes and take them away.
Unless victory is theirs
the enemy’s insolent legs will go on kicking
their most revered old women.
Their ill fated children won’t be able to stop
the enemy’s bullets even by hiding themselves
behind their fathers’ broad chests.
Victory will be surely theirs
for they are not afraid
of the enemy’s hundreds of killer weapons,
their most modern bomber planes,
the earth quake like holocaust
hundreds of corpses of their kith and kin.
They are not afraid of the western power’s
military might,
and, so, victory will be surely theirs.
In order to teach the enemy a proper lesson
they fling their own lives like a grenade
into the enemy camp.
And, so, victory will be surely theirs.
There is no other desire in their limbs
other than that of self sacrifice
and the destruction of their enemy.
No battle formation of the enemy
can throttle that desire.
They throw away their lives like paltry pebbles
into the waters of death.
Their souls, in a frenzy for freedom,
fly upwards like blazing fireworks
towards the Great Freedom,
learning behind life’s eternal truth.
----
poem by Shafiqul Islam
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My buddies (a reply to Boris Slutsky)
All young white men at a time
was forced into the military, into war
or had to serve a three year jail term
and most of my buddies came home,
but some did not:
Parachuting into a enemy camp
there was one close friend that died,
the other three I hardly knew
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
seven hundred and fifty
enemy SWAPO and Cuban casualties
and on one patrol one close buddy
stepped on a landmine
were blown up and no one else was hurt,
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
the enemy that had lost
little lest than a full platoon.
In Angola when we met enemy armour,
turned FAPLA / Cuban divisions
under Soviet leadership into junk
I saw a Ratel armoured car
that was trapped in a landmine field
that had been shot out
with the holes
were enemy tank projectiles went in
and every one inside was burnt, incinerated
if not blown to bits, turned into ash
and it had been only one of eleven
armoured cars
and troop carriers that was lost
some of only thirty-one soldiers dead
but there was pain that flashed through me
when I saw it
and to the government it was
an incidental small thing against
four thousand seven hundred and eighty five killed
on the Cuban/FAPLAN side,94 tanks
and hundreds of enemy combat vehicles destroyed
and now no one thinks
of the sacrifice that all of these soldiers made,
of the hundreds of thousands
of returning citizen force soldiers
who were nuts, bomb happy
with post traumatic stress syndrome
or whatever you want to call it
as to the government it is
an incidental small thing,
that happened in a distant past
as if the ex-soldiers are non-existing,
even seen as apartheid criminals by some.
[References: Buddies here used as name used in the South African Defence Force for comrades. Ex-soldiers here used instead of war veterans, as in African circles the word war veterans has got a new derogatory meaning connected to it. My Comrades by Boris Slutsky.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Why?
If I could paint
I would paint a portrait
of a shot out Ratel armoured car
standing in a landmine field.
Out of which the smoke still rises
And I would print in defencelessness
with every brush stroke
of armoured steel failing
against projectiles
and then becoming a coffin
and enemy soldiers standing grinning
with teeth brilliant white
and bones of fallen comrades
that tried to stop a horde of barbarians
and hyenas and jackals standing drooling
and vultures turning in the sky
and in the background till the horizon
enemy tanks, armoured cars
and men would lay shot to pieces
with pools of blood, intestines
and shot of legs and hands
and the title would be: Why?
poem by Gert Strydom
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Freedom Park
Build your monument to a war
that you have lost at Cuito Cuanavale
and try to deceive the world
about your victory
which was rather your huge loss
and hail Russians and Cubans as your heroes
and we who have paid the cost
knows where victory really laid
and that no bugle ever played its last farewell
to the enemy we sent to hell
and although no one mourns our dead
most of us live on instead.
We do not need to be on any
honour wall
or to be associated
with your heroes
who mowed down people
praying in a church
and set off bombs in the street.
We never lost any battle
nor a war
and our honour is in the lives
of every man, women and child
who in a way are still free.
[Reference: “The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.” Jannie Geldenhuys.1994. At the front. P240. Johanathan Ball Publishers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Blessed are those (in answer to Dikobe wa Mogale)
Blessed are those
who jumped at Cassinga,
courted death while outnumbered
by the enemy and Cuban battle tanks
and are still living
to tell the story
blessed are those who are killed, slaughtered
in the thousands on there farmsteads,
while the police
do not tract down the killers
and these killings continues
to still go on
blessed are those who are burgled, hijacked
and raped
in the cities
and are still living
while every criminal in Africa
floods in to the country
blessed are those who choose
to remain here as white citizens
while being oppressed
by the laws laid down
by the current government
and are left without income
by the effect
of affirmative action
and who still believe and pray
while their days drag on aimlessly.
[Reference: blood of the martyrs by Dikobe wa Mogale.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Waiting for the Barbarians
What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum?
The barbarians are due here today.
Why isn't anything happening in the senate?
Why do the senators sit there without legislating?
Because the barbarians are coming today.
What laws can the senators make now?
Once the barbarians are here, they'll do the legislating.
Why did our emperor get up so early,
and why is he sitting at the city's main gate
on his throne, in state, wearing the crown?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and the emperor is waiting to receive their leader.
He has even prepared a scroll to give him,
replete with titles, with imposing names.
Why have our two consuls and praetors come out today
wearing their embroidered, their scarlet togas?
Why have they put on bracelets with so many amethysts,
and rings sparkling with magnificent emeralds?
Why are they carrying elegant canes
beautifully worked in silver and gold?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and things like that dazzle the barbarians.
Why don't our distinguished orators come forward as usual
to make their speeches, say what they have to say?
Because the barbarians are coming today
and they're bored by rhetoric and public speaking.
Why this sudden restlessness, this confusion?
(How serious people's faces have become.)
Why are the streets and squares emptying so rapidly,
everyone going home so lost in thought?
Because night has fallen and the barbarians have not come.
And some who have just returned from the border say
there are no barbarians any longer.
And now, what's going to happen to us without barbarians?
They were, those people, a kind of solution.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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Phantoms in my dreams
Another river flooded with blood
with thousands of enemy soldiers
wiped out, as if their lives
mattered not to man.
Almost a hundred tanks shot out,
more than three hundred
armoured cars destroyed
and some tanks,
(more than the fingers
on my hands)
just left behind
with the occupants running away
to hide in the veldt
and to this day
the shocking reality
of that battle scenes
are phantoms in my dreams.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale
I. Outnumbered by armour (A reply to William Shakespeare)
Outnumbered by armour
and by men we met the enemy,
FAPLA and Cubans under Russian leadership
and the men accompanying me
was very worried
and wished for the whole
of the seventh armoured division
to have been deployed.
I said to the men
in the armoured car with me
that if we must die here in vain,
the fewer men it be
but if we grasp the victory
the world will know
that we are brave and honourable men
capable of destroying whatever faces us.
Weary I told them that our ancestors
faced a outnumbering enemy
against Dingaan and won effectively
as they were in the hand of God
and so were we.
Colonel Deon Ferreira send us straight in,
from Rundu
(heading north-west after crossing the border)
to intercept the 47th enemy FAPLA / Cuban (armoured) brigade.
At the same time UNITA were repulsing
the16th FAPLA (infantry) brigade
north of the Lomba River
that was trying to take Cunjamba.
We were hitting hard directly from the south,
surprising the 47th enemy (armoured) Brigade,
virtually destroying it
at the junction
of the Lomba and Cuzizi Rivers
fighting with armoured cars
against tanks
hitting fast and then driving away at speed,
like on commando our ancestors did
during the Anglo Boer war
fighting day and night
till the field, the air was filled with gore
and when more pressure came,
more enemy armour rolled in
our own main battle tanks joined in,
howitzer guns started firing in support
from many miles away,
assisted by reconnaissance commandos
for accurate targeting
It was the greatest slaughtering,
as battles go a terrible, terrible thing
for our enemy
while we wiped them out
and found ten abandoned enemy tanks
left in the bush, in pristine condition
with the men operating them running away
Shortly after these victories
our forces along with those of UNITA
destroyed the remaining FAPLA / Cuban forces
in the Lomba-Cuzizi-Conzumbia aria
and on the offensive
drove back the other enemy brigades
for a distance of one hundred and twenty miles
in bloody battles up to Cuito Cuanavale
l’Envoi
and now on a hill outside Pretoria
the new government
has constructed a monument
called Freedom Park
to celebrate a victory,
thinking that with lies
they can change history,
are even trying to find some Cubans
to place the names of them on a honour wall
as heroes and victors
while they had lost
at a terrible cost of men and machines
and incredibly
some people believe them.
[References: Before Agincourt by William Shakespeare.]
II. Legends and victories in Angola of which the truth is vague (in answer to Johan Myburg)
No person that wasn’t there
can grasp the extent, of the impact
of the Cuban brigades
the air bridge that the Russians had build
with new armour and weapons from Moscow,
the deadly danger that attacks
of the 47th (armoured) ,59th (mechanized) ,16th (infantry) ,
and 21st (infantry) ,25th (infantry) , enemy brigades held
when almost a hundred T-55 tanks
and hundreds of BTR-armoured cars
came driving shooting out of the bush
(supported by MIG-23 fighter bombers) ,
knows how it is when Ratel-90 armoured cars
have to come to a standstill,
to fire upon moving and shooting targets
and in that hour of hell
the truth about a giant victory against
Cuba wasn’t vague,
the whole of the 47th FAPLA / Cuban (armoured) brigade
was totally obliterated,
ninety-four enemy tanks was shot out,
almost three hundred armoured cars were reduced to scrap
four thousand five hundred and eighty enemies were killed
nine MIG fighter jets were shot down
against the lost of only three South African tanks,
eleven armoured cars and troop carriers,
one Mirage fighter jet
and thirty-one South African soldiers.
Whoever views the truth of this victory as vague
hasn’t got a clue
of what had happened there
(probably had hidden as a religious pastor
somewhere in the rearguard,
or were away at home)
Whoever believes the false propaganda
distributed by the new government
and the Cubans,
are without proper knowledge
and disputes the bravery
of the undefeated soldiers
of the 61 mechanised
and 32 South African battalion groups.
l’Envoi
Still it’s strange
that the Cuban general Ochoa Sanchez
(who was the supreme commander of this conflict)
was executed in Cuba.
[References: Stigtingsdag (Founder’s day) by Johan Myburg:
“maar duisend-en-een angolese verhale
van brigades kubane
sages van seges waarvan
waarheid maar vaag is”
My translation into English:
“but a thousand and one Angolan stories
of brigades of Cubans
legends of victories of which
the truth is but vague”
The battle at Cuito Cuanavale: “The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.” (General) Jannie Geldenhuys. (1994) : At the front. Jonathan Ball Publishers. P240.
“The South African force, under the command of Colonel Deon Ferreira, was tasked with carrying out three operations (1) Operation Modular - The aim of which was to halt and reverse the FAPLA / Cuban advance on the UNITA strongholds of Mavinga and Jamba, (2) Operation Hooper - The aim of which was to inflict maximum casualties on the retreating FAPLA / Cuban forces after they had been halted and (3) Operation Packer - The aim of which was to force the FAPLA / Cuban forces to retreat to the west of the Cuito River.” Nortje, Piet (2003) .32 Battalion. Zebra Press.
'In early October the Soviet-Fapla offensive was smashed at the Lomba River near Mavinga. It turned into a headlong retreat over the 120 miles back to the primary launching point at Cuito Cuanavale. In some of the bloodiest battles of the entire civil war, a combined force of some 8,000 UNITA fighters and 4,000 SADF troops destroyed one Fapla brigade and mauled several others out of a total Fapla force of some 18,000 engaged in the three-pronged offensive. Estimates of Fapla losses ranged upward of 4,000 killed and wounded. This offensive had been a Soviet conception from start to finish. Senior Soviet officers played a central role in its execution.... Huge quantities of Soviet equipment were destroyed or fell into UNITA and SADF hands when Fapla broke into a disorganized retreat... The 1987 military campaign represented a stunning humiliation for the Soviet Union, its arms and its strategy.... As of mid-November, the UNITA/SADF force had destroyed the Cuito Cuanavale airfield and pinned down thousands of FAPLA's best remaining units clinging onto the town's defensive perimeters.' Crocker, Chester A. (1992) High Noon in Southern Africa: Making Peace in a Rough Neighbourhood. (Crocker was U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs during the Reagan Administration.)
John Turner claims that: “following their losses, the Cubans were convinced that further military confrontation with the SADF would not succeed.” Turner, John W. (1998) . Continent Ablaze; The Insurgency Wars in Africa,1960 to the Present. Cassell Plc.
Comments made by a Soviet adviser to the Cubans in Angola: 'The people's armed forces for the liberation of Angola have not been able either, even with the help of the Cubans, to decisively defeat the enemy and drive him out of the territory or the country.” M. Ponomariov, Krasnaya Zvezda Magazine; 20 May 1988.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Forever young
I saw boys driving away to war
in a Ratel-90 armoured car
and they were well trained,
ready for action
and called up for military service
against their will.
Two smiled and a few
waved goodbye
and there was dirt
in my eyes,
when my armoured car
caught speed.
Enemy battle tanks were everywhere
and we fought right through the night
and with first light
an armoured car was stuck
in a mine field
and they were hoping for the best
but the worst was there
and shot out they paid the cost.
Although the enemy
paid a much higher price
and lost,
it’s like yesterday that they
waved goodbye
and sacrificed in vain
their lives for people
that does not honour them
and remain forever young.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Living With The Enemy
I gave you all that you wanted
and still you come back for more
You say that you're brokenhearted
but then you walk out the door
Maybe it is time for us to say goodbye
Where are the tears you never cried?
Hey baby what you got on your mind
are you looking for some sympathy?
I can tell you if it's a truth or a lie
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy
You got me going in circles,
I'm slowly loosing my head
What did I do to deserve this,
you make me wish I was dead
Tell me I'm wrong and I'll be on my way
See you around another day
Hey baby what you doin' tonite?
Are you giving me the perfect dream
I'm so tired and I don't wanna fight
'Cos it's just like living,
living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
Living with the enemy,enemy
Living with the enemy, living with the enemy, enemy
song performed by by Ozzy Osbourne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A woman unconscious
The enemy were almost at the door,
coming with tanks, armoured cars,
rocket launching trucks,
helicopter gunship, fighter jets,
with supporting Cuban troops
under Russian command
and day after day
I prayed for it to end,
for the killing of them, to stop,
where my Ratel armoured car
send tank after tank and many more armoured cars
with phosphorous shells
straight to hell
and by calamity the future changed,
turned into a different world,
changed from the one
scared of them, dropping the annihilating bomb
of millions of people being killed and dead
and at home, the welcoming did not come
at my return
and your were not there,
were killed in a car accident instead,
were for a time unconscious
in a white hospital bed
and the evidence of how cruel
the world can be
still walks with me,
while life goes on.
[Reference: A woman unconscious by Ted Hughes.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ghost from the war
A military base close to the border
that divides our country from that of the enemy,
a tent through which the wild wind
at gale force strength blows red sand,
pressed into a war by politicians
who decide about the destiny of men.
A trench where enemy soldiers,
women and children lie shot dead,
ripped apart by hand grenades
and mortar bombs
and from the outside
it looks like patriotism, national interest
for which you do service
but on the inside you are caught
by destiny
where other people like gods
take decisions that have an impact on you.
Dead are the innocent,
bystanders, a young man
who hasn’t even come to age
and there are flames
that burns right through the thorn bushes,
where a Ratel armoured car is burning
and I wonder about the presence of God,
about the lot of man
and the thorn bush burns, the whole veldt
is in flames.
Being lost makes me sober
while I try hard to forget
of the havoc that I know,
how war ravages, destroys, tramples
and how easily people die, especially those
that doesn’t really deserve it
and everybody are settled into
just another number and name.
[Reference: Ghosts from the call by Japie S Strydom:
“ a fortress,
a trench,
a tent,
an institution
for the mentally insane;
Big syllables on the outside in large characters type:
GET EVERYTHING HERE IN HUGE QUANTITIES
From the outside
a shadow that falls without end
from the inside a prison.
Being bound,
lost,
day long working, trying to remember,
remembering to withdraw,
to spend time, by writing meaningless sentences
wondered, though about:
mother,
our home,
brother
no Father.
a command,
a decree,
An invitation to recognize,
identification of:
a soldier
a man,
a boy,
still somewhat a child,
killed.
Killed between the branches
of a burning umbrella-thorn bush
almost like Moses with God,
but burnt right out of his boots
almost not stopped burning
with white phosphor that doesn’t want to die
I saw again today:
In the thick bush
man
– returned to earth
in the stomach blood of a boy
mixed with sand.” (My English translation.) ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The beret must have been a dead give away
To this day I know that
the beret must have been
a dead give away,
and the shoulder flashes
also proclaimed something
of the military unit that I belonged to.
Tired and almost asleep on my feet
after the long military flight
out of the war zone,
the soft rain smelled
fresh and it was cold
where I hiked
the last stint home.
Fourteen days leave
came as a real blessing
and just being away
and back in the states
was really great
A Brand new blue BMW
stopped next to me
and the occupants were
very friendly
and it was warm inside the car.
It looked like a mom and dad
and beautiful eighteen-year old daughter,
but they were foreigners
and introduced themselves as American.
The girl really liked me
and their accents were all American,
but something was just not right
and I couldn’t put my finger on it
and just maybe they were just a little too much
into being Americans.
The man remarked that he find it curious
for a officer to be hiking
and I thought that NATO probably
had similar ranks
and I explained that my
camp was away in the war zone
and that there was no way
to take my motorbike
all the way there.
The woman was driving
and the man frowned
at the bars and badges
on the chest of my bush jacket,
as if the combination of them
did not make sense to him.
It’s another thing to be seconded
to different units
and to complete some
of their training
and I realised that for Americans,
they probably knew
a little to much about our army
and were most probably
intelligence for the enemy.
The girl treated me like a hero
and wanted to know
about my unit
and somewhere questions
about unit strengths
and targetable distances
crept into the conversation,
but I steered the conversation
in to another direction.
The man wanted to know
if we were really going to win the war
when the enemy use heavy armour
and I said that we would win
against any thing that they bring
and it would be better for everyone
if the Cubans just packed up
and went back home
and the man laughed at me doubtfully.
Maybe there was something prophetic
in those words
as was proved at the Cuito Cuanavale battle
and I told them how
my ancestors in a twenty thousand strong
Boer farmer citizen force army,
had subdued a British army of
four hundred and fifty thousand
for three years long.
Little did they know
that my words said much more
and that Ratel-90 crews
used the same tactics
of fast movement
and accurate shooting
and great bravery
in dealing with enemy tanks.
There’s something very brave
to stop dead still
with a Ratel armoured car
to stabilize the gun
to be able to get the shot off
while a enemy tank
that can shoot while it moves
is charging towards you,
but that piece of information
never came out.
[References: The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale “The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.” Jannie Geldenhuys.1994: At the front: 240 Johanathan Ball Publishers. The states=> Back home in South Africa. NATO North Atlantic treaty organization.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Anthem to the 47th Cuban / Faplan Brigade
Whom but your mothers back in Havana
and some in Luanda
mourn your lost or knows
that you were slaughtered in battle
as if human life
holds nothing sacred,
were wiped out by one
of only two battalions
at the junction of the Lomba
and Cuzizi Rivers,
that you heard Ratel armoured cars
driving in at speed,
the roar of Olifant tanks
and the thunder of their guns
or the whining stutter of machineguns
nor did you probably say any prayers
before deadly shells fell from the sky.
What remorse does your supreme leader feel
when your mothers, wives and children
light up candles
(who never really had a chance
for a proper goodbye)
and knows by now
that you will never come home.
[Reference: “The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.” Jannie Geldenhuys.1994: At the front. P240. Johanthan Ball Publishers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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This Could Not Be The War We Fought In (Cavatina)
The new government talks down; they deceive
about winning
against us, the war in which we did fight;
the beginning
of this deceit is at primary school
and by sinning
they rewrite history to suit their lies,
to look brave in their supporters eyes.
We did destroy a Soviet controlled
Cuban army,
never lost any battle nor the war,
but liberty
given to their imprisoned leaders,
they are now free
to say whatever nonsense they want to,
in their actions atrocities to do.
Citizens did pay the ultimate price,
and went to war,
some died from cowardly terrorist acts,
as was in store;
some women and children were slaughtered
in blood and gore
by planted bombs, some in church mowed down,
in these things this government finds renown.
[References: 'The battle at Cuito Cuanavale: 'The results of the campaign up to April 1988 were 4,785 killed on the Cuban/Faplan side, with 94 tanks and hundreds of combat vehicles destroyed, against 31 South Africans killed in action,3 tanks destroyed (SADF tanks entered the war after the Lomba River campaign) and 11 SADF armoured cars and troop carriers lost. A total of 9 Migs were destroyed and only 1 SAAF Mirage shot down.' (General) Jannie Geldenhuys. (1994) : At the front. Jonathan Ball Publishers. P240.
'The South African force, under the command of Colonel Deon Ferreira, was tasked with carrying out three operations (1) Operation Modular - The aim of which was to halt and reverse the FAPLA / Cuban advance on the UNITA strongholds of Mavinga and Jamba, (2) Operation Hooper - The aim of which was to inflict maximum casualties on the retreating FAPLA / Cuban forces after they had been halted and (3) Operation Packer - The aim of which was to force the FAPLA / Cuban forces to retreat to the west of the Cuito River.' Nortje, Piet (2003) .32 Battalion. Zebra Press.
'In early October the Soviet-Fapla offensive was smashed at the Lomba River near Mavinga. It turned into a headlong retreat over the 120 miles back to the primary launching point at Cuito Cuanavale. In some of the bloodiest battles of the entire civil war, a combined force of some 8,000 UNITA fighters and 4,000 SADF troops destroyed one Fapla brigade and mauled several others out of a total Fapla force of some 18,000 engaged in the three-pronged offensive. Estimates of Fapla losses ranged upward of 4,000 killed and wounded. This offensive had been a Soviet conception from start to finish. Senior Soviet officers played a central role in its execution.... Huge quantities of Soviet equipment were destroyed or fell into UNITA and SADF hands when Fapla broke into a disorganized retreat... The 1987 military campaign represented a stunning humiliation for the Soviet Union, its arms and its strategy.... As of mid-November, the UNITA/SADF force had destroyed the Cuito Cuanavale airfield and pinned down thousands of FAPLA's best remaining units clinging onto the town's defensive perimeters.' Crocker, Chester A. (1992) High Noon in Southern Africa: Making Peace in a Rough Neighbourhood. (Crocker was U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs during the Reagan Administration.)
John Turner claims that: 'following their losses, the Cubans were convinced that further military confrontation with the SADF would not succeed.' Turner, John W. (1998) . Continent Ablaze; The Insurgency Wars in Africa,1960 to the Present. Cassell Plc.
Comments made by a Soviet adviser to the Cubans in Angola: 'The people's armed forces for the liberation of Angola have not been able either, even with the help of the Cubans, to decisively defeat the enemy and drive him out of the territory or the country.' M. Ponomariov, Krasnaya Zvezda Magazine; 20 May 1988.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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One evening I see a thing
One evening
I see a thing
that let’s my blood boil,
while I watch the news
on the television set.
I know a bold man
without hair
that stands before a big crowd,
his country, the world
and the God of gods
and lays his hand
on the holy black book
and lies a promise down and gives a solemn oath
to be true to his country and fellow man.
His government drove me to Angola
and back again
and all of the oppressed
really did have to get freedom,
but where did he stay
his brother’s keeper?
Now it seems
that he really doesn’t have a clue
about how a white man
with a degree and lots of experience
has difficulty
to find a permanent job at forty five
and to put food on the table
and all of government
falls apart
through people that have no clue
how to do their work.
Thousands of rands of tax
are subtracted from my contract work
and tax pays
his fat pension.
I want to blister
like a hot potato,
because he has the impudence
to say something about affirmative action
and I pray for him
and ask God to change him
and for him to be blessed,
as it is the way
that my mother taught me
to do to my enemies.
My contract is finished
and I have to find another job
and from that,
he stands totally free.
poem by Gert Strydom
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We Honour The Courage Of Peace Advocates In China
We waited hoping
China would allow...
Liu Xiaobo
to attend the Nobel
Peace Prize ceremony.
Or his wife or close relatives or friends.
We wait and pray for freedom in China.
We honour the courage of peace advocates in China.
We cry for their pain we share their dream freedom.
We waited for weeks years bitter sour
hoping China would wisdom relent
see reason recognize freedom allow
all Chinese people gift freedom of speech.
At the Nobel Peace Prize Award in Oslo
awarded was to the symbolic empty chair
representing Liu Xiaobo innocent imprisoned
we viewed peace soaring in freedom fair.
Freedom in noble crimson silken robes
took flight before us smiling innocent in adversity
the face of freedom without fear enemies
looked down from heaven in wisdom piety serenity.
In sovereignty freedom declares supremacy immutability.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The night is full of brown Ratel armoured cars
The night is full of brown Ratel armoured cars
and Olifant tanks
that drives and rolls in on the ground
and salvos from rocket launching trucks
that draws arcs
and in the distance howitzer canon reports
in volleys
and when a light flare suddenly falls
it is as if the bushes are teeming
with enemy tanks and armoured cars
just where I look
and it looks
like the day of judgement.
Projectiles find their targets
and canister-shot comes down exploding thundering
and it’s an apocalyptic night
for some of the enemy
who are burning,
scorched and blown to smithereens in their armour
and when a tank
suddenly appears out of the bushes
there is a hell of a red thunderclap
as a shot from another Ratel hits it deadly
and I realize that even here
a person’s time is measured out
and around me there are fireworks
like stars falling from the sky
while we stop and aim
the following killing shot.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Till the shooting ended
The fine press of binoculars against eye,
speech apparatus against mouth,
bodies camouflaged against the ground
made burning stars
fall from the sky.
Projectiles from G-5 howitzer canons
blasting from more that forty kilometres away
crossed the sky
in parabolas adjusted fine
and smashed enemy tank and armoured car
to pieces.
Flames throwing their tongues
orange-red to the sky,
enemy weapons pierced,
a commander with cigar in his hand bended,
enemy soldiers of whom
intestines rained down in pieces
in a moment where everybody
met the maker
and pools of red blood
and shot-out scrap
was all that marked the place of slaughtering.
l’Envoi
Till the shooting ended,
men stopped dying,
when too many were killed and pierced
and a war on the backside
of Africa was lost
and even the Russians knew
to forget about any victory
and the Cubans returned to Cuba
and never again Fidel Castro
could try and clench his fist round Africa.
[Reference: The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale were South African Reconnaissance Commandos (Recce’s) and artillery gun crews played a major role.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Ablaze
Ablaze! An armoured car
is aflame and stuck in
a field of landmines
and enemy tanks are everywhere.
So soldiers say - on yesterday –
just as the dawn was grey
a Ratels wheels
set some landmines of
and it was stuck there
and received seven shells
from enemy tanks
and it’s a terrible, terrible thing.
So Generals say – on yesterday –
just as the sun was rising
we lost one Ratel-90 armoured car
stuck in a landmine field,
but she gave a brave fight
and the enemy lost
thirteen tanks that came
to take a shot at her.
So angels say – on yesterday –
just as sun lit the sky,
man played war games again
and used explosives, cannon and flame
and innocent men died
trying to survive
and it’s a pity
that man doesn’t know
how to live in peace.
poem by Gert Strydom
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