#angola — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #angola, aggregated by home.social.
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Egypt’s former coach on the verge of taking charge of Valencia
Valencia are pushing to land Mexican coach Javier Aguirre, who has emerged in recent hours as the frontrunner…
#Spain #ES #Europe #Europa #EU #Valencia #AfricaCupofNationsQualification #Angola #Egypt #EgyptvsAngola #LaLiga #RealSociedad #SouthSudan #SouthSudanvsEgypt #ValenciavsRealSociedad
https://www.europesays.com/spain/88616/ -
https://www.europesays.com/africa/434451/ American Tax Dollars Are Financing Cell Towers in Angola #AmericanTaxpayers #angola #China #ChinaDevelopmentBank #DonaldTrump #EXIM #NetworkInfrastructure #PrivateSector
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https://www.europesays.com/africa/434227/ OQ eyes major Angola energy investments #angola #energy #eyes #investments #Major #OQ
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https://www.europesays.com/afrique/213279/ Angola : plus de 1,5 milliard $ d’accords avec Oman, dont 500 MW renouvelables #Angola #d’accords #dont #Économie #milliard #Oman #plus #renouvelables
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The Mexican Chronicles – Fifteen
Spiders, Scorpions and Things
On the whole we saw very little wildlife of the larger variety, mainly insects of the extremely large variety. A few guys had to be casevaced because of spider-bites and scorpion stings.
One morning, very badly hung over, I was too lazy to put my boots on and stumbled barefoot along the path to the mess for coffee. I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my little toe, as if someone was putting out a cigarette on it. My first thought was that I had stepped on someone’s cigarette butt, then I saw a whitish, small scorpion scuttling off. Strangely enough my scorpion sting, while painful, did not upset my nervous system as it did the other guys who got stung; they all got seriously ill. I waited for the inevitable, but, apart from minor swelling where my little toe became my big toe, nothing really happened. It must have been all the vodka acting like a serum! On a scale of pain, it was high up: much worse than a bee sting, about three times worse than a wasp, but Mickey Mouse when compared to an adder bite. So far those are the only references I have managed to collect, but I am still working on it.
The grossest insect-related thing I saw, and thank God it didn’t happen to me, involved little white worms. There we were, minding our own business on the shooting range. Some of the guys were complaining about these painful pimples they had developed. One artilleryman had a lovely beer belly and was digging at a pimple on his stomach with his none-too-clean fingernails. Much to everyone’s disgust, an ugly little worm-thing wriggled out. It was highly amusing to watch all these rough and tough soldiers, who had similar pimples, run screaming like a bunch of frightened women to find the medic. I suppose it was only funny because my skin was a lovely brown colour and free of blemishes! Brian, the medic, spent the afternoon digging out these horrible little worms.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Fifteen
Spiders, Scorpions and Things
On the whole we saw very little wildlife of the larger variety, mainly insects of the extremely large variety. A few guys had to be casevaced because of spider-bites and scorpion stings.
One morning, very badly hung over, I was too lazy to put my boots on and stumbled barefoot along the path to the mess for coffee. I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my little toe, as if someone was putting out a cigarette on it. My first thought was that I had stepped on someone’s cigarette butt, then I saw a whitish, small scorpion scuttling off. Strangely enough my scorpion sting, while painful, did not upset my nervous system as it did the other guys who got stung; they all got seriously ill. I waited for the inevitable, but, apart from minor swelling where my little toe became my big toe, nothing really happened. It must have been all the vodka acting like a serum! On a scale of pain, it was high up: much worse than a bee sting, about three times worse than a wasp, but Mickey Mouse when compared to an adder bite. So far those are the only references I have managed to collect, but I am still working on it.
The grossest insect-related thing I saw, and thank God it didn’t happen to me, involved little white worms. There we were, minding our own business on the shooting range. Some of the guys were complaining about these painful pimples they had developed. One artilleryman had a lovely beer belly and was digging at a pimple on his stomach with his none-too-clean fingernails. Much to everyone’s disgust, an ugly little worm-thing wriggled out. It was highly amusing to watch all these rough and tough soldiers, who had similar pimples, run screaming like a bunch of frightened women to find the medic. I suppose it was only funny because my skin was a lovely brown colour and free of blemishes! Brian, the medic, spent the afternoon digging out these horrible little worms.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Fifteen
Spiders, Scorpions and Things
On the whole we saw very little wildlife of the larger variety, mainly insects of the extremely large variety. A few guys had to be casevaced because of spider-bites and scorpion stings.
One morning, very badly hung over, I was too lazy to put my boots on and stumbled barefoot along the path to the mess for coffee. I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my little toe, as if someone was putting out a cigarette on it. My first thought was that I had stepped on someone’s cigarette butt, then I saw a whitish, small scorpion scuttling off. Strangely enough my scorpion sting, while painful, did not upset my nervous system as it did the other guys who got stung; they all got seriously ill. I waited for the inevitable, but, apart from minor swelling where my little toe became my big toe, nothing really happened. It must have been all the vodka acting like a serum! On a scale of pain, it was high up: much worse than a bee sting, about three times worse than a wasp, but Mickey Mouse when compared to an adder bite. So far those are the only references I have managed to collect, but I am still working on it.
The grossest insect-related thing I saw, and thank God it didn’t happen to me, involved little white worms. There we were, minding our own business on the shooting range. Some of the guys were complaining about these painful pimples they had developed. One artilleryman had a lovely beer belly and was digging at a pimple on his stomach with his none-too-clean fingernails. Much to everyone’s disgust, an ugly little worm-thing wriggled out. It was highly amusing to watch all these rough and tough soldiers, who had similar pimples, run screaming like a bunch of frightened women to find the medic. I suppose it was only funny because my skin was a lovely brown colour and free of blemishes! Brian, the medic, spent the afternoon digging out these horrible little worms.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
Facebook:
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Fifteen
Spiders, Scorpions and Things
On the whole we saw very little wildlife of the larger variety, mainly insects of the extremely large variety. A few guys had to be casevaced because of spider-bites and scorpion stings.
One morning, very badly hung over, I was too lazy to put my boots on and stumbled barefoot along the path to the mess for coffee. I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my little toe, as if someone was putting out a cigarette on it. My first thought was that I had stepped on someone’s cigarette butt, then I saw a whitish, small scorpion scuttling off. Strangely enough my scorpion sting, while painful, did not upset my nervous system as it did the other guys who got stung; they all got seriously ill. I waited for the inevitable, but, apart from minor swelling where my little toe became my big toe, nothing really happened. It must have been all the vodka acting like a serum! On a scale of pain, it was high up: much worse than a bee sting, about three times worse than a wasp, but Mickey Mouse when compared to an adder bite. So far those are the only references I have managed to collect, but I am still working on it.
The grossest insect-related thing I saw, and thank God it didn’t happen to me, involved little white worms. There we were, minding our own business on the shooting range. Some of the guys were complaining about these painful pimples they had developed. One artilleryman had a lovely beer belly and was digging at a pimple on his stomach with his none-too-clean fingernails. Much to everyone’s disgust, an ugly little worm-thing wriggled out. It was highly amusing to watch all these rough and tough soldiers, who had similar pimples, run screaming like a bunch of frightened women to find the medic. I suppose it was only funny because my skin was a lovely brown colour and free of blemishes! Brian, the medic, spent the afternoon digging out these horrible little worms.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
Facebook:
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Fifteen
Spiders, Scorpions and Things
On the whole we saw very little wildlife of the larger variety, mainly insects of the extremely large variety. A few guys had to be casevaced because of spider-bites and scorpion stings.
One morning, very badly hung over, I was too lazy to put my boots on and stumbled barefoot along the path to the mess for coffee. I suddenly felt an excruciating pain in my little toe, as if someone was putting out a cigarette on it. My first thought was that I had stepped on someone’s cigarette butt, then I saw a whitish, small scorpion scuttling off. Strangely enough my scorpion sting, while painful, did not upset my nervous system as it did the other guys who got stung; they all got seriously ill. I waited for the inevitable, but, apart from minor swelling where my little toe became my big toe, nothing really happened. It must have been all the vodka acting like a serum! On a scale of pain, it was high up: much worse than a bee sting, about three times worse than a wasp, but Mickey Mouse when compared to an adder bite. So far those are the only references I have managed to collect, but I am still working on it.
The grossest insect-related thing I saw, and thank God it didn’t happen to me, involved little white worms. There we were, minding our own business on the shooting range. Some of the guys were complaining about these painful pimples they had developed. One artilleryman had a lovely beer belly and was digging at a pimple on his stomach with his none-too-clean fingernails. Much to everyone’s disgust, an ugly little worm-thing wriggled out. It was highly amusing to watch all these rough and tough soldiers, who had similar pimples, run screaming like a bunch of frightened women to find the medic. I suppose it was only funny because my skin was a lovely brown colour and free of blemishes! Brian, the medic, spent the afternoon digging out these horrible little worms.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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https://www.europesays.com/afrika/53973/ 5. Wirtschaftsgipfel Afrika
– IHK Region Stuttgart #Afrika #Angola #Äthiopien #Botswana #CoteD #Ghana #Kenia #Kongo #Mosambik #Namibia #Nigeria #Sambia #Simbabwe #Südafrika -
The Mexican Chronicles – Thirteen
After the coffee we moved to the “parade ground” for roll call. We stood around in what could be called a “loose formation squad”. Some guys wore shorts, some longs; some wore shirts, some T-shirts. All the boots were different. The only thing the clothes had in common was that they were either cammo or green-coloured. The camp by day was very different to an SADF one. Nothing – but nothing – was “squared away”. The tents were in no real layout and not put up straight or even particularly well. The beds were unmade or semi-made and all sorts of civvy shit was just lying around. The parade ground was the road we drove through the skitwal on.
Reima strode forward and shouted: ‘Aandag!’ but only he and the four new chaps came to attention. As for the rest, all they did was stand up if they had been sitting or lying on the ground and face vaguely forward. If they had been smoking, some put the cigarettes out, some didn’t. Then another chap came ambling up looking bored; Reima saluted him and yelled something unintelligible. They said a few words and Reima about-turned and screamed: ‘At ease!’ The four rookies went to “at ease”. The rest couldn’t get more at ease unless they lay down again. A roll call of sorts was taken and when it was my turn I earned my first nickname; my earring was still in. After being called a girl and a queer all at the same time, Reima calmed down and never called me anything but oorbel after that. Later on you will realize how pathetic all this posturing of the sergeant major really was. The CO welcomed us new chaps and explained this was definitely not the SADF and how we were not to act as if it was. He had very little else to say. These amazing roll calls happened in a similar fashion the whole time I was with Executive Outcomes. The only real purpose these parades served was to make sure no one had disappeared in the night, which I found out later was quite feasible in this crazy place.
As the place where I am is up for sale…Gypsy on the Move?
As explained in the link above, I will post, a series of what would be my OLD MAN’s CV.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Thirteen
After the coffee we moved to the “parade ground” for roll call. We stood around in what could be called a “loose formation squad”. Some guys wore shorts, some longs; some wore shirts, some T-shirts. All the boots were different. The only thing the clothes had in common was that they were either cammo or green-coloured. The camp by day was very different to an SADF one. Nothing – but nothing – was “squared away”. The tents were in no real layout and not put up straight or even particularly well. The beds were unmade or semi-made and all sorts of civvy shit was just lying around. The parade ground was the road we drove through the skitwal on.
Reima strode forward and shouted: ‘Aandag!’ but only he and the four new chaps came to attention. As for the rest, all they did was stand up if they had been sitting or lying on the ground and face vaguely forward. If they had been smoking, some put the cigarettes out, some didn’t. Then another chap came ambling up looking bored; Reima saluted him and yelled something unintelligible. They said a few words and Reima about-turned and screamed: ‘At ease!’ The four rookies went to “at ease”. The rest couldn’t get more at ease unless they lay down again. A roll call of sorts was taken and when it was my turn I earned my first nickname; my earring was still in. After being called a girl and a queer all at the same time, Reima calmed down and never called me anything but oorbel after that. Later on you will realize how pathetic all this posturing of the sergeant major really was. The CO welcomed us new chaps and explained this was definitely not the SADF and how we were not to act as if it was. He had very little else to say. These amazing roll calls happened in a similar fashion the whole time I was with Executive Outcomes. The only real purpose these parades served was to make sure no one had disappeared in the night, which I found out later was quite feasible in this crazy place.
As the place where I am is up for sale…Gypsy on the Move?
As explained in the link above, I will post, a series of what would be my OLD MAN’s CV.
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Thirteen
After the coffee we moved to the “parade ground” for roll call. We stood around in what could be called a “loose formation squad”. Some guys wore shorts, some longs; some wore shirts, some T-shirts. All the boots were different. The only thing the clothes had in common was that they were either cammo or green-coloured. The camp by day was very different to an SADF one. Nothing – but nothing – was “squared away”. The tents were in no real layout and not put up straight or even particularly well. The beds were unmade or semi-made and all sorts of civvy shit was just lying around. The parade ground was the road we drove through the skitwal on.
Reima strode forward and shouted: ‘Aandag!’ but only he and the four new chaps came to attention. As for the rest, all they did was stand up if they had been sitting or lying on the ground and face vaguely forward. If they had been smoking, some put the cigarettes out, some didn’t. Then another chap came ambling up looking bored; Reima saluted him and yelled something unintelligible. They said a few words and Reima about-turned and screamed: ‘At ease!’ The four rookies went to “at ease”. The rest couldn’t get more at ease unless they lay down again. A roll call of sorts was taken and when it was my turn I earned my first nickname; my earring was still in. After being called a girl and a queer all at the same time, Reima calmed down and never called me anything but oorbel after that. Later on you will realize how pathetic all this posturing of the sergeant major really was. The CO welcomed us new chaps and explained this was definitely not the SADF and how we were not to act as if it was. He had very little else to say. These amazing roll calls happened in a similar fashion the whole time I was with Executive Outcomes. The only real purpose these parades served was to make sure no one had disappeared in the night, which I found out later was quite feasible in this crazy place.
As the place where I am is up for sale…Gypsy on the Move?
As explained in the link above, I will post, a series of what would be my OLD MAN’s CV.
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Thirteen
After the coffee we moved to the “parade ground” for roll call. We stood around in what could be called a “loose formation squad”. Some guys wore shorts, some longs; some wore shirts, some T-shirts. All the boots were different. The only thing the clothes had in common was that they were either cammo or green-coloured. The camp by day was very different to an SADF one. Nothing – but nothing – was “squared away”. The tents were in no real layout and not put up straight or even particularly well. The beds were unmade or semi-made and all sorts of civvy shit was just lying around. The parade ground was the road we drove through the skitwal on.
Reima strode forward and shouted: ‘Aandag!’ but only he and the four new chaps came to attention. As for the rest, all they did was stand up if they had been sitting or lying on the ground and face vaguely forward. If they had been smoking, some put the cigarettes out, some didn’t. Then another chap came ambling up looking bored; Reima saluted him and yelled something unintelligible. They said a few words and Reima about-turned and screamed: ‘At ease!’ The four rookies went to “at ease”. The rest couldn’t get more at ease unless they lay down again. A roll call of sorts was taken and when it was my turn I earned my first nickname; my earring was still in. After being called a girl and a queer all at the same time, Reima calmed down and never called me anything but oorbel after that. Later on you will realize how pathetic all this posturing of the sergeant major really was. The CO welcomed us new chaps and explained this was definitely not the SADF and how we were not to act as if it was. He had very little else to say. These amazing roll calls happened in a similar fashion the whole time I was with Executive Outcomes. The only real purpose these parades served was to make sure no one had disappeared in the night, which I found out later was quite feasible in this crazy place.
As the place where I am is up for sale…Gypsy on the Move?
As explained in the link above, I will post, a series of what would be my OLD MAN’s CV.
Rate this:
-
The Mexican Chronicles – Thirteen
After the coffee we moved to the “parade ground” for roll call. We stood around in what could be called a “loose formation squad”. Some guys wore shorts, some longs; some wore shirts, some T-shirts. All the boots were different. The only thing the clothes had in common was that they were either cammo or green-coloured. The camp by day was very different to an SADF one. Nothing – but nothing – was “squared away”. The tents were in no real layout and not put up straight or even particularly well. The beds were unmade or semi-made and all sorts of civvy shit was just lying around. The parade ground was the road we drove through the skitwal on.
Reima strode forward and shouted: ‘Aandag!’ but only he and the four new chaps came to attention. As for the rest, all they did was stand up if they had been sitting or lying on the ground and face vaguely forward. If they had been smoking, some put the cigarettes out, some didn’t. Then another chap came ambling up looking bored; Reima saluted him and yelled something unintelligible. They said a few words and Reima about-turned and screamed: ‘At ease!’ The four rookies went to “at ease”. The rest couldn’t get more at ease unless they lay down again. A roll call of sorts was taken and when it was my turn I earned my first nickname; my earring was still in. After being called a girl and a queer all at the same time, Reima calmed down and never called me anything but oorbel after that. Later on you will realize how pathetic all this posturing of the sergeant major really was. The CO welcomed us new chaps and explained this was definitely not the SADF and how we were not to act as if it was. He had very little else to say. These amazing roll calls happened in a similar fashion the whole time I was with Executive Outcomes. The only real purpose these parades served was to make sure no one had disappeared in the night, which I found out later was quite feasible in this crazy place.
As the place where I am is up for sale…Gypsy on the Move?
As explained in the link above, I will post, a series of what would be my OLD MAN’s CV.
Rate this:
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https://www.europesays.com/africa/?p=421699 ExxonMobil Finds More Hydrocarbons in Angola’s Offshore Block 15 – September 11, 2026 #angola #financial #FinancialPlanning #Investing #investment #InvestmentAdvice #OnlineInvestment #OnlineStockTrading #OnlineTrading #quote #quotes #stock #StockMarket #StockQuotes #stocks
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The Mexican Chronicles – Seven
Then we went through the normal – for some people – shit, with the store-men, to get our kit. Don’t really like rear echelon soldiers, and with good reason. In the SADF we called them jam-stealers; this lot proved no different. What was really surprising was the lack of kit issued. We got: boots: 1 pair, shirts: 2, trousers: 2 pairs, sheets: 1 pair, blanket: 1, mossie net: 1, underpants: 3 pairs, socks: 2 pairs.
That’s not the bad part. What was worrying, was what we didn’t get: mess equipment, water bottle, webbing, groundsheet, spade. Even worse – no assault rifle!
A white boy in an African country at war, in a soldier’s uniform with no weapon? Not good at all, safe camp or not. We spent most of the first day packing kasse (Army steel cupboards) and tents onto vehicles. It was a strange feeling, wearing commie cammos in a strange land with a bunch of generally unfriendly guys. I learned later these ou-manne had only been there a week or two longer than us. Assholes! My pay number was 158 and a few on the payroll were still in Pretoria; this was early days for Executive Outcomes.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Seven
Then we went through the normal – for some people – shit, with the store-men, to get our kit. Don’t really like rear echelon soldiers, and with good reason. In the SADF we called them jam-stealers; this lot proved no different. What was really surprising was the lack of kit issued. We got: boots: 1 pair, shirts: 2, trousers: 2 pairs, sheets: 1 pair, blanket: 1, mossie net: 1, underpants: 3 pairs, socks: 2 pairs.
That’s not the bad part. What was worrying, was what we didn’t get: mess equipment, water bottle, webbing, groundsheet, spade. Even worse – no assault rifle!
A white boy in an African country at war, in a soldier’s uniform with no weapon? Not good at all, safe camp or not. We spent most of the first day packing kasse (Army steel cupboards) and tents onto vehicles. It was a strange feeling, wearing commie cammos in a strange land with a bunch of generally unfriendly guys. I learned later these ou-manne had only been there a week or two longer than us. Assholes! My pay number was 158 and a few on the payroll were still in Pretoria; this was early days for Executive Outcomes.
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Seven
Then we went through the normal – for some people – shit, with the store-men, to get our kit. Don’t really like rear echelon soldiers, and with good reason. In the SADF we called them jam-stealers; this lot proved no different. What was really surprising was the lack of kit issued. We got: boots: 1 pair, shirts: 2, trousers: 2 pairs, sheets: 1 pair, blanket: 1, mossie net: 1, underpants: 3 pairs, socks: 2 pairs.
That’s not the bad part. What was worrying, was what we didn’t get: mess equipment, water bottle, webbing, groundsheet, spade. Even worse – no assault rifle!
A white boy in an African country at war, in a soldier’s uniform with no weapon? Not good at all, safe camp or not. We spent most of the first day packing kasse (Army steel cupboards) and tents onto vehicles. It was a strange feeling, wearing commie cammos in a strange land with a bunch of generally unfriendly guys. I learned later these ou-manne had only been there a week or two longer than us. Assholes! My pay number was 158 and a few on the payroll were still in Pretoria; this was early days for Executive Outcomes.
Rate this:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Seven
Then we went through the normal – for some people – shit, with the store-men, to get our kit. Don’t really like rear echelon soldiers, and with good reason. In the SADF we called them jam-stealers; this lot proved no different. What was really surprising was the lack of kit issued. We got: boots: 1 pair, shirts: 2, trousers: 2 pairs, sheets: 1 pair, blanket: 1, mossie net: 1, underpants: 3 pairs, socks: 2 pairs.
That’s not the bad part. What was worrying, was what we didn’t get: mess equipment, water bottle, webbing, groundsheet, spade. Even worse – no assault rifle!
A white boy in an African country at war, in a soldier’s uniform with no weapon? Not good at all, safe camp or not. We spent most of the first day packing kasse (Army steel cupboards) and tents onto vehicles. It was a strange feeling, wearing commie cammos in a strange land with a bunch of generally unfriendly guys. I learned later these ou-manne had only been there a week or two longer than us. Assholes! My pay number was 158 and a few on the payroll were still in Pretoria; this was early days for Executive Outcomes.
Rate this:
-
The Mexican Chronicles – Seven
Then we went through the normal – for some people – shit, with the store-men, to get our kit. Don’t really like rear echelon soldiers, and with good reason. In the SADF we called them jam-stealers; this lot proved no different. What was really surprising was the lack of kit issued. We got: boots: 1 pair, shirts: 2, trousers: 2 pairs, sheets: 1 pair, blanket: 1, mossie net: 1, underpants: 3 pairs, socks: 2 pairs.
That’s not the bad part. What was worrying, was what we didn’t get: mess equipment, water bottle, webbing, groundsheet, spade. Even worse – no assault rifle!
A white boy in an African country at war, in a soldier’s uniform with no weapon? Not good at all, safe camp or not. We spent most of the first day packing kasse (Army steel cupboards) and tents onto vehicles. It was a strange feeling, wearing commie cammos in a strange land with a bunch of generally unfriendly guys. I learned later these ou-manne had only been there a week or two longer than us. Assholes! My pay number was 158 and a few on the payroll were still in Pretoria; this was early days for Executive Outcomes.
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Bimbi’s Letters
BIMBI’S LETTERS
In any military situation the Brass knows that letters from home are important for morale, so Executive Outcomes set up a similar system to what most of us had known in the SADF. Obviously without all the bullshit, like having to do push-ups if your letter smelt of perfume. Every plane that came in had some mail for us. We could get stamps at the canteen and our letters would be posted from “The House” in Pretoria. My mail was mainly from Charmaine; she even sent some drawings based on what I wrote about camp life.
We had been in Angola for a few months when I noticed that Bimbi never received any mail. So I watched to see if he ever sent any out; he did not. I knew he had a wife and kids living in Phalaborwa, although he was Congolese. At this stage the South African news was full of stories, some actually true, of a bunch of South African mercenaries in Angola. A few guys had been killed already and the newspapers were having a field day. Charmaine kept a photo of three bodies; dead and half-naked, that Savimbi had sent to the South African news services as a warning to keep South African soldiers out of his country. I’m sure all the wives and girlfriends were eagerly waiting for mail.
One day I asked Bimbi why he did not write, would his wife not be worrying about him? Now, Bimbi was a really black man, not some shade of brown. If he could have, he would have blushed. The story was, he and his wife had no common written language. Although he could speak five or six languages, he could only write in French. His wife, being from Venda, probably had never even heard French before she met Bimbi.
I offered to write on his behalf, and, after much cajoling, Bimbi arrived in my tent late one night. It was touching to see how embarrassed this hard-assed ex-5 Recce soldier was; so shy about his personal life. He told me to write that he was well and to ask how are the kids. That was it! When I asked if I should write that he missed his wife, he nearly crawled under the bed. I then teased him further. I asked if I should tell her how much he loved her, too. We eventually sent a letter off. His next embarrassment came when Goodness, his wife, replied. The poor bugger couldn’t read English either. So he snuck into my tent late one night again and very shamefacedly asked me if I would mind reading his letter. The cost to him must have been enormous. He was pleased that his family were all well. Bimbi was a truly brave man, in every respect, and I liked him all the more for it.
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Bimbi’s Letters
BIMBI’S LETTERS
In any military situation the Brass knows that letters from home are important for morale, so Executive Outcomes set up a similar system to what most of us had known in the SADF. Obviously without all the bullshit, like having to do push-ups if your letter smelt of perfume. Every plane that came in had some mail for us. We could get stamps at the canteen and our letters would be posted from “The House” in Pretoria. My mail was mainly from Charmaine; she even sent some drawings based on what I wrote about camp life.
We had been in Angola for a few months when I noticed that Bimbi never received any mail. So I watched to see if he ever sent any out; he did not. I knew he had a wife and kids living in Phalaborwa, although he was Congolese. At this stage the South African news was full of stories, some actually true, of a bunch of South African mercenaries in Angola. A few guys had been killed already and the newspapers were having a field day. Charmaine kept a photo of three bodies; dead and half-naked, that Savimbi had sent to the South African news services as a warning to keep South African soldiers out of his country. I’m sure all the wives and girlfriends were eagerly waiting for mail.
One day I asked Bimbi why he did not write, would his wife not be worrying about him? Now, Bimbi was a really black man, not some shade of brown. If he could have, he would have blushed. The story was, he and his wife had no common written language. Although he could speak five or six languages, he could only write in French. His wife, being from Venda, probably had never even heard French before she met Bimbi.
I offered to write on his behalf, and, after much cajoling, Bimbi arrived in my tent late one night. It was touching to see how embarrassed this hard-assed ex-5 Recce soldier was; so shy about his personal life. He told me to write that he was well and to ask how are the kids. That was it! When I asked if I should write that he missed his wife, he nearly crawled under the bed. I then teased him further. I asked if I should tell her how much he loved her, too. We eventually sent a letter off. His next embarrassment came when Goodness, his wife, replied. The poor bugger couldn’t read English either. So he snuck into my tent late one night again and very shamefacedly asked me if I would mind reading his letter. The cost to him must have been enormous. He was pleased that his family were all well. Bimbi was a truly brave man, in every respect, and I liked him all the more for it.
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Bimbi’s Letters
BIMBI’S LETTERS
In any military situation the Brass knows that letters from home are important for morale, so Executive Outcomes set up a similar system to what most of us had known in the SADF. Obviously without all the bullshit, like having to do push-ups if your letter smelt of perfume. Every plane that came in had some mail for us. We could get stamps at the canteen and our letters would be posted from “The House” in Pretoria. My mail was mainly from Charmaine; she even sent some drawings based on what I wrote about camp life.
We had been in Angola for a few months when I noticed that Bimbi never received any mail. So I watched to see if he ever sent any out; he did not. I knew he had a wife and kids living in Phalaborwa, although he was Congolese. At this stage the South African news was full of stories, some actually true, of a bunch of South African mercenaries in Angola. A few guys had been killed already and the newspapers were having a field day. Charmaine kept a photo of three bodies; dead and half-naked, that Savimbi had sent to the South African news services as a warning to keep South African soldiers out of his country. I’m sure all the wives and girlfriends were eagerly waiting for mail.
One day I asked Bimbi why he did not write, would his wife not be worrying about him? Now, Bimbi was a really black man, not some shade of brown. If he could have, he would have blushed. The story was, he and his wife had no common written language. Although he could speak five or six languages, he could only write in French. His wife, being from Venda, probably had never even heard French before she met Bimbi.
I offered to write on his behalf, and, after much cajoling, Bimbi arrived in my tent late one night. It was touching to see how embarrassed this hard-assed ex-5 Recce soldier was; so shy about his personal life. He told me to write that he was well and to ask how are the kids. That was it! When I asked if I should write that he missed his wife, he nearly crawled under the bed. I then teased him further. I asked if I should tell her how much he loved her, too. We eventually sent a letter off. His next embarrassment came when Goodness, his wife, replied. The poor bugger couldn’t read English either. So he snuck into my tent late one night again and very shamefacedly asked me if I would mind reading his letter. The cost to him must have been enormous. He was pleased that his family were all well. Bimbi was a truly brave man, in every respect, and I liked him all the more for it.
Rate this:
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Bimbi’s Letters
BIMBI’S LETTERS
In any military situation the Brass knows that letters from home are important for morale, so Executive Outcomes set up a similar system to what most of us had known in the SADF. Obviously without all the bullshit, like having to do push-ups if your letter smelt of perfume. Every plane that came in had some mail for us. We could get stamps at the canteen and our letters would be posted from “The House” in Pretoria. My mail was mainly from Charmaine; she even sent some drawings based on what I wrote about camp life.
We had been in Angola for a few months when I noticed that Bimbi never received any mail. So I watched to see if he ever sent any out; he did not. I knew he had a wife and kids living in Phalaborwa, although he was Congolese. At this stage the South African news was full of stories, some actually true, of a bunch of South African mercenaries in Angola. A few guys had been killed already and the newspapers were having a field day. Charmaine kept a photo of three bodies; dead and half-naked, that Savimbi had sent to the South African news services as a warning to keep South African soldiers out of his country. I’m sure all the wives and girlfriends were eagerly waiting for mail.
One day I asked Bimbi why he did not write, would his wife not be worrying about him? Now, Bimbi was a really black man, not some shade of brown. If he could have, he would have blushed. The story was, he and his wife had no common written language. Although he could speak five or six languages, he could only write in French. His wife, being from Venda, probably had never even heard French before she met Bimbi.
I offered to write on his behalf, and, after much cajoling, Bimbi arrived in my tent late one night. It was touching to see how embarrassed this hard-assed ex-5 Recce soldier was; so shy about his personal life. He told me to write that he was well and to ask how are the kids. That was it! When I asked if I should write that he missed his wife, he nearly crawled under the bed. I then teased him further. I asked if I should tell her how much he loved her, too. We eventually sent a letter off. His next embarrassment came when Goodness, his wife, replied. The poor bugger couldn’t read English either. So he snuck into my tent late one night again and very shamefacedly asked me if I would mind reading his letter. The cost to him must have been enormous. He was pleased that his family were all well. Bimbi was a truly brave man, in every respect, and I liked him all the more for it.
Rate this:
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Bimbi’s Letters
BIMBI’S LETTERS
In any military situation the Brass knows that letters from home are important for morale, so Executive Outcomes set up a similar system to what most of us had known in the SADF. Obviously without all the bullshit, like having to do push-ups if your letter smelt of perfume. Every plane that came in had some mail for us. We could get stamps at the canteen and our letters would be posted from “The House” in Pretoria. My mail was mainly from Charmaine; she even sent some drawings based on what I wrote about camp life.
We had been in Angola for a few months when I noticed that Bimbi never received any mail. So I watched to see if he ever sent any out; he did not. I knew he had a wife and kids living in Phalaborwa, although he was Congolese. At this stage the South African news was full of stories, some actually true, of a bunch of South African mercenaries in Angola. A few guys had been killed already and the newspapers were having a field day. Charmaine kept a photo of three bodies; dead and half-naked, that Savimbi had sent to the South African news services as a warning to keep South African soldiers out of his country. I’m sure all the wives and girlfriends were eagerly waiting for mail.
One day I asked Bimbi why he did not write, would his wife not be worrying about him? Now, Bimbi was a really black man, not some shade of brown. If he could have, he would have blushed. The story was, he and his wife had no common written language. Although he could speak five or six languages, he could only write in French. His wife, being from Venda, probably had never even heard French before she met Bimbi.
I offered to write on his behalf, and, after much cajoling, Bimbi arrived in my tent late one night. It was touching to see how embarrassed this hard-assed ex-5 Recce soldier was; so shy about his personal life. He told me to write that he was well and to ask how are the kids. That was it! When I asked if I should write that he missed his wife, he nearly crawled under the bed. I then teased him further. I asked if I should tell her how much he loved her, too. We eventually sent a letter off. His next embarrassment came when Goodness, his wife, replied. The poor bugger couldn’t read English either. So he snuck into my tent late one night again and very shamefacedly asked me if I would mind reading his letter. The cost to him must have been enormous. He was pleased that his family were all well. Bimbi was a truly brave man, in every respect, and I liked him all the more for it.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Six
Caba Ledo
After attending to the basics, the first thing I noticed was the heat. We had flown along a coastline for the past hour or more, so I knew that we were close to the sea. There was not another plane in sight. We had flown in at 32000 ft., which I believe is out of range for SAM 7s, and had dived to ground level at an alarming rate of descent for the same reason. The second thing I noticed was that the bush was not as thick as I would have expected. A white soldier in cammos climbed on the wing to refuel the Kingair, which took off as soon as possible, again for obvious reasons.
The guy that was refuelling the plane?
His name was Michael da Silva, I never met him or spoke to him while in EO, so never knew his name then, you shall meet him later in the original story he was un-named, here we shall read a LOT more about him, apart from the food story, his linking me up with Jack Murphy, and having Eeben Barlow contact me about HIS revised version of his book Against All Odds. I nearly go a mistaking ID mention in it, lucky Eeben does his research! Ja. But that happened 20 years after EO was disbanded, plus a few …. discussions with Sargeant Pelsur, not very pleasant ones! Asshole.
Back to Caba Ledo now
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The Mexican Chronicles – Six
Caba Ledo
After attending to the basics, the first thing I noticed was the heat. We had flown along a coastline for the past hour or more, so I knew that we were close to the sea. There was not another plane in sight. We had flown in at 32000 ft., which I believe is out of range for SAM 7s, and had dived to ground level at an alarming rate of descent for the same reason. The second thing I noticed was that the bush was not as thick as I would have expected. A white soldier in cammos climbed on the wing to refuel the Kingair, which took off as soon as possible, again for obvious reasons.
The guy that was refuelling the plane?
His name was Michael da Silva, I never met him or spoke to him while in EO, so never knew his name then, you shall meet him later in the original story he was un-named, here we shall read a LOT more about him, apart from the food story, his linking me up with Jack Murphy, and having Eeben Barlow contact me about HIS revised version of his book Against All Odds. I nearly go a mistaking ID mention in it, lucky Eeben does his research! Ja. But that happened 20 years after EO was disbanded, plus a few …. discussions with Sargeant Pelsur, not very pleasant ones! Asshole.
Back to Caba Ledo now
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The Mexican Chronicles – Six
Caba Ledo
After attending to the basics, the first thing I noticed was the heat. We had flown along a coastline for the past hour or more, so I knew that we were close to the sea. There was not another plane in sight. We had flown in at 32000 ft., which I believe is out of range for SAM 7s, and had dived to ground level at an alarming rate of descent for the same reason. The second thing I noticed was that the bush was not as thick as I would have expected. A white soldier in cammos climbed on the wing to refuel the Kingair, which took off as soon as possible, again for obvious reasons.
The guy that was refuelling the plane?
His name was Michael da Silva, I never met him or spoke to him while in EO, so never knew his name then, you shall meet him later in the original story he was un-named, here we shall read a LOT more about him, apart from the food story, his linking me up with Jack Murphy, and having Eeben Barlow contact me about HIS revised version of his book Against All Odds. I nearly go a mistaking ID mention in it, lucky Eeben does his research! Ja. But that happened 20 years after EO was disbanded, plus a few …. discussions with Sargeant Pelsur, not very pleasant ones! Asshole.
Back to Caba Ledo now
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The Mexican Chronicles – Six
Caba Ledo
After attending to the basics, the first thing I noticed was the heat. We had flown along a coastline for the past hour or more, so I knew that we were close to the sea. There was not another plane in sight. We had flown in at 32000 ft., which I believe is out of range for SAM 7s, and had dived to ground level at an alarming rate of descent for the same reason. The second thing I noticed was that the bush was not as thick as I would have expected. A white soldier in cammos climbed on the wing to refuel the Kingair, which took off as soon as possible, again for obvious reasons.
The guy that was refuelling the plane?
His name was Michael da Silva, I never met him or spoke to him while in EO, so never knew his name then, you shall meet him later in the original story he was un-named, here we shall read a LOT more about him, apart from the food story, his linking me up with Jack Murphy, and having Eeben Barlow contact me about HIS revised version of his book Against All Odds. I nearly go a mistaking ID mention in it, lucky Eeben does his research! Ja. But that happened 20 years after EO was disbanded, plus a few …. discussions with Sargeant Pelsur, not very pleasant ones! Asshole.
Back to Caba Ledo now
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The Mexican Chronicles – Six
Caba Ledo
After attending to the basics, the first thing I noticed was the heat. We had flown along a coastline for the past hour or more, so I knew that we were close to the sea. There was not another plane in sight. We had flown in at 32000 ft., which I believe is out of range for SAM 7s, and had dived to ground level at an alarming rate of descent for the same reason. The second thing I noticed was that the bush was not as thick as I would have expected. A white soldier in cammos climbed on the wing to refuel the Kingair, which took off as soon as possible, again for obvious reasons.
The guy that was refuelling the plane?
His name was Michael da Silva, I never met him or spoke to him while in EO, so never knew his name then, you shall meet him later in the original story he was un-named, here we shall read a LOT more about him, apart from the food story, his linking me up with Jack Murphy, and having Eeben Barlow contact me about HIS revised version of his book Against All Odds. I nearly go a mistaking ID mention in it, lucky Eeben does his research! Ja. But that happened 20 years after EO was disbanded, plus a few …. discussions with Sargeant Pelsur, not very pleasant ones! Asshole.
Back to Caba Ledo now
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The Mexican Chronicles – Five
, a civilian courier service that flew us in and out. We handed in our passports and Trevor and I made acquaintance with our first real live Selous Scout, Bruce. He was in his late forties or early fifties and rather outspoken. We eventually climbed aboard a Kingair, along with a bull terrier, which let off the most terrible farts for the next six hours. Apparently he belonged to RMS Reima at the training camp called Longa. That dog did a bit worse than just fart a bit farting while at Rio Longa.
On this first trip no one had any booze, not even I, as we were clueless about the “security” at the airport. Keep in mind that Lanseria at this time was a couple of small buildings, nothing like it looks now. Over the years since then I did notice that the airport was a hotspot for all kinds of illegal shit. Once it was upgraded the illegal shit was transferred to our military , the Air Force bases. When a tagged Rhino Horn left Hoedspruit at a few hundred kilometres an hour I wrote that it is the military and got shot down for that. But. The Gupta Business proved that I was on track. I slept on and off, and by the time we landed didn’t know if I wanted more desperately to piss or smoke. Did both simultaneously.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Five
, a civilian courier service that flew us in and out. We handed in our passports and Trevor and I made acquaintance with our first real live Selous Scout, Bruce. He was in his late forties or early fifties and rather outspoken. We eventually climbed aboard a Kingair, along with a bull terrier, which let off the most terrible farts for the next six hours. Apparently he belonged to RMS Reima at the training camp called Longa. That dog did a bit worse than just fart a bit farting while at Rio Longa.
On this first trip no one had any booze, not even I, as we were clueless about the “security” at the airport. Keep in mind that Lanseria at this time was a couple of small buildings, nothing like it looks now. Over the years since then I did notice that the airport was a hotspot for all kinds of illegal shit. Once it was upgraded the illegal shit was transferred to our military , the Air Force bases. When a tagged Rhino Horn left Hoedspruit at a few hundred kilometres an hour I wrote that it is the military and got shot down for that. But. The Gupta Business proved that I was on track. I slept on and off, and by the time we landed didn’t know if I wanted more desperately to piss or smoke. Did both simultaneously.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Five
, a civilian courier service that flew us in and out. We handed in our passports and Trevor and I made acquaintance with our first real live Selous Scout, Bruce. He was in his late forties or early fifties and rather outspoken. We eventually climbed aboard a Kingair, along with a bull terrier, which let off the most terrible farts for the next six hours. Apparently he belonged to RMS Reima at the training camp called Longa. That dog did a bit worse than just fart a bit farting while at Rio Longa.
On this first trip no one had any booze, not even I, as we were clueless about the “security” at the airport. Keep in mind that Lanseria at this time was a couple of small buildings, nothing like it looks now. Over the years since then I did notice that the airport was a hotspot for all kinds of illegal shit. Once it was upgraded the illegal shit was transferred to our military , the Air Force bases. When a tagged Rhino Horn left Hoedspruit at a few hundred kilometres an hour I wrote that it is the military and got shot down for that. But. The Gupta Business proved that I was on track. I slept on and off, and by the time we landed didn’t know if I wanted more desperately to piss or smoke. Did both simultaneously.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
Facebook:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Five
, a civilian courier service that flew us in and out. We handed in our passports and Trevor and I made acquaintance with our first real live Selous Scout, Bruce. He was in his late forties or early fifties and rather outspoken. We eventually climbed aboard a Kingair, along with a bull terrier, which let off the most terrible farts for the next six hours. Apparently he belonged to RMS Reima at the training camp called Longa. That dog did a bit worse than just fart a bit farting while at Rio Longa.
On this first trip no one had any booze, not even I, as we were clueless about the “security” at the airport. Keep in mind that Lanseria at this time was a couple of small buildings, nothing like it looks now. Over the years since then I did notice that the airport was a hotspot for all kinds of illegal shit. Once it was upgraded the illegal shit was transferred to our military , the Air Force bases. When a tagged Rhino Horn left Hoedspruit at a few hundred kilometres an hour I wrote that it is the military and got shot down for that. But. The Gupta Business proved that I was on track. I slept on and off, and by the time we landed didn’t know if I wanted more desperately to piss or smoke. Did both simultaneously.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
Facebook:
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The Mexican Chronicles – Five
, a civilian courier service that flew us in and out. We handed in our passports and Trevor and I made acquaintance with our first real live Selous Scout, Bruce. He was in his late forties or early fifties and rather outspoken. We eventually climbed aboard a Kingair, along with a bull terrier, which let off the most terrible farts for the next six hours. Apparently he belonged to RMS Reima at the training camp called Longa. That dog did a bit worse than just fart a bit farting while at Rio Longa.
On this first trip no one had any booze, not even I, as we were clueless about the “security” at the airport. Keep in mind that Lanseria at this time was a couple of small buildings, nothing like it looks now. Over the years since then I did notice that the airport was a hotspot for all kinds of illegal shit. Once it was upgraded the illegal shit was transferred to our military , the Air Force bases. When a tagged Rhino Horn left Hoedspruit at a few hundred kilometres an hour I wrote that it is the military and got shot down for that. But. The Gupta Business proved that I was on track. I slept on and off, and by the time we landed didn’t know if I wanted more desperately to piss or smoke. Did both simultaneously.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Four
………climbing into bed with me every morning after her mother had left for work, just in panties and a T-shirt! I had to go – anywhere! So far nothing too serious had happened, but it was coming. I went. Charmaine took us to the airport; that early in the morning, Lanseria is dead quiet. We looked around and saw a couple of other chaps standing around looking confused. You can’t really waltz up to someone and ask, ‘Where is the flight for the “gonnabe” mercenaries,’ can you? Besides, although we had a good idea that it was to Angola, we weren’t supposed to know where we were going anyway. We all stood around until some reasonably well-dressed guy came and asked us what we were looking for. We met the pilots from Capricorn Systems, a civilian courier service……..
to be continued
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Four
………climbing into bed with me every morning after her mother had left for work, just in panties and a T-shirt! I had to go – anywhere! So far nothing too serious had happened, but it was coming. I went. Charmaine took us to the airport; that early in the morning, Lanseria is dead quiet. We looked around and saw a couple of other chaps standing around looking confused. You can’t really waltz up to someone and ask, ‘Where is the flight for the “gonnabe” mercenaries,’ can you? Besides, although we had a good idea that it was to Angola, we weren’t supposed to know where we were going anyway. We all stood around until some reasonably well-dressed guy came and asked us what we were looking for. We met the pilots from Capricorn Systems, a civilian courier service……..
to be continued
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Four
………climbing into bed with me every morning after her mother had left for work, just in panties and a T-shirt! I had to go – anywhere! So far nothing too serious had happened, but it was coming. I went. Charmaine took us to the airport; that early in the morning, Lanseria is dead quiet. We looked around and saw a couple of other chaps standing around looking confused. You can’t really waltz up to someone and ask, ‘Where is the flight for the “gonnabe” mercenaries,’ can you? Besides, although we had a good idea that it was to Angola, we weren’t supposed to know where we were going anyway. We all stood around until some reasonably well-dressed guy came and asked us what we were looking for. We met the pilots from Capricorn Systems, a civilian courier service……..
to be continued
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Four
………climbing into bed with me every morning after her mother had left for work, just in panties and a T-shirt! I had to go – anywhere! So far nothing too serious had happened, but it was coming. I went. Charmaine took us to the airport; that early in the morning, Lanseria is dead quiet. We looked around and saw a couple of other chaps standing around looking confused. You can’t really waltz up to someone and ask, ‘Where is the flight for the “gonnabe” mercenaries,’ can you? Besides, although we had a good idea that it was to Angola, we weren’t supposed to know where we were going anyway. We all stood around until some reasonably well-dressed guy came and asked us what we were looking for. We met the pilots from Capricorn Systems, a civilian courier service……..
to be continued
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Four
………climbing into bed with me every morning after her mother had left for work, just in panties and a T-shirt! I had to go – anywhere! So far nothing too serious had happened, but it was coming. I went. Charmaine took us to the airport; that early in the morning, Lanseria is dead quiet. We looked around and saw a couple of other chaps standing around looking confused. You can’t really waltz up to someone and ask, ‘Where is the flight for the “gonnabe” mercenaries,’ can you? Besides, although we had a good idea that it was to Angola, we weren’t supposed to know where we were going anyway. We all stood around until some reasonably well-dressed guy came and asked us what we were looking for. We met the pilots from Capricorn Systems, a civilian courier service……..
to be continued
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Three
……….fight. I didn’t care. We’d been told to bring a pair of shorts and some sandals, and that everything else would be provided. We were to be at Lanseria airport at 3 am that Wednesday.
Now we just had to wait, so we went drinking again, hitting Froggo’s for an afternoon session. Froggo’s was my afternoon and evening pub, in the day it always had a few people I knew drinking, and at night the music was usually good. Mike became a big fan of Froggo’s and used to drive from Pretoria to come drinking with us. When I got home in the afternoon, Samantha was crying and saying how I was sure to be killed, how every man in her life left her: her father, her boyfriends. I should mention now that my life was getting complicated at this stage. Samantha had got into the habit of climbing into bed with me every morning…… to be continued.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Three
……….fight. I didn’t care. We’d been told to bring a pair of shorts and some sandals, and that everything else would be provided. We were to be at Lanseria airport at 3 am that Wednesday.
Now we just had to wait, so we went drinking again, hitting Froggo’s for an afternoon session. Froggo’s was my afternoon and evening pub, in the day it always had a few people I knew drinking, and at night the music was usually good. Mike became a big fan of Froggo’s and used to drive from Pretoria to come drinking with us. When I got home in the afternoon, Samantha was crying and saying how I was sure to be killed, how every man in her life left her: her father, her boyfriends. I should mention now that my life was getting complicated at this stage. Samantha had got into the habit of climbing into bed with me every morning…… to be continued.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Three
……….fight. I didn’t care. We’d been told to bring a pair of shorts and some sandals, and that everything else would be provided. We were to be at Lanseria airport at 3 am that Wednesday.
Now we just had to wait, so we went drinking again, hitting Froggo’s for an afternoon session. Froggo’s was my afternoon and evening pub, in the day it always had a few people I knew drinking, and at night the music was usually good. Mike became a big fan of Froggo’s and used to drive from Pretoria to come drinking with us. When I got home in the afternoon, Samantha was crying and saying how I was sure to be killed, how every man in her life left her: her father, her boyfriends. I should mention now that my life was getting complicated at this stage. Samantha had got into the habit of climbing into bed with me every morning…… to be continued.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Three
……….fight. I didn’t care. We’d been told to bring a pair of shorts and some sandals, and that everything else would be provided. We were to be at Lanseria airport at 3 am that Wednesday.
Now we just had to wait, so we went drinking again, hitting Froggo’s for an afternoon session. Froggo’s was my afternoon and evening pub, in the day it always had a few people I knew drinking, and at night the music was usually good. Mike became a big fan of Froggo’s and used to drive from Pretoria to come drinking with us. When I got home in the afternoon, Samantha was crying and saying how I was sure to be killed, how every man in her life left her: her father, her boyfriends. I should mention now that my life was getting complicated at this stage. Samantha had got into the habit of climbing into bed with me every morning…… to be continued.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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The Mexican Chronicles – Three
……….fight. I didn’t care. We’d been told to bring a pair of shorts and some sandals, and that everything else would be provided. We were to be at Lanseria airport at 3 am that Wednesday.
Now we just had to wait, so we went drinking again, hitting Froggo’s for an afternoon session. Froggo’s was my afternoon and evening pub, in the day it always had a few people I knew drinking, and at night the music was usually good. Mike became a big fan of Froggo’s and used to drive from Pretoria to come drinking with us. When I got home in the afternoon, Samantha was crying and saying how I was sure to be killed, how every man in her life left her: her father, her boyfriends. I should mention now that my life was getting complicated at this stage. Samantha had got into the habit of climbing into bed with me every morning…… to be continued.
Big Five Wars is my main mission for now and they also get updated regularly.
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Executive Outcome seen by….
While looking for any photos of EO in Cabo Ledo found this blog and some info on the net that says:
Executive Outcomes (EO) operated a major training base at Cabo Ledo, Angola, starting in 1993 and into 1994, where they trained thousands of Angolan government (FAA) troops.
Photographs specifically isolated to the Cabo Ledo base camp itself are quite rare online, as most public imagery focuses on active combat zones or group portraits. However, historical documentation and photographic archives from the 1993–1994 Angola campaign show EO personnel, equipment, and the training operations they conducted during this exact period:
- Troop Training: Under the contract, EO built up an extensive infrastructure to train up to 5,000 FAA infantrymen and 30 combat pilots. Photos from this era typically depict South African advisors in distinctive brushstroke or DPM camouflage alongside Angolan recruits.
- Air Support: EO heavily relied on Soviet-era hardware integrated with their own tactics. Common images feature personnel deployed alongside Mi-17 and Mi-24 helicopters, which were heavily utilized out of
- coastal staging hubs like Cabo Ledo.
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