Tsetse Wars - mobilization

My first camp as a Field Entomologist

A typical shower installation in camp.

I became a Field Entomologist with the Tsetse & Trypanosomiasis Branch of the Department of Veterinary Services in Rhodesia in July 1967.  I had driven north into Rhodesia from the South African border post at Beit Bridge, in my relatively new Volkswagen Beetle, to begin a new chapter of my life.  My home for the previous six years had been Grahamstown, South Africa, where I had studied Zoology and Entomology and worked in the Department of Zoology at Rhodes University as Senior Lab Technician. 

Rhodesia, for me, was a breath of fresh air.  The Apartheid policies of the South African Government had not permeated Rhodesian society.  Race relations were completely different and this was immediately apparent in all walks of society, where blacks held positions in commerce and in government departments and in private industry unlike I had seen before in South Africa.
     
A few examples come to mind.  Most commercial and public transport drivers were blacks.  In South Africa, job reservation (or protection) policies prohibited blacks from operating many forms of public transport, including buses, and reserved those occupations for whites only.  In Rhodesia one could go into a Post Office or a Bank and most other businesses and expect to be waited on by a black or white employee.  It was not unusual to be attended to by a black nurse or doctor, particularly in rural areas. Across the broad spectrum of jobs, those who were qualified to hold positions were able to compete for those positions and be paid on a standard scale of pay.

There were exceptions, of course, such as the fact that most public schools were still reserved for blacks or whites. But the society had been integrated to an extent that I had not seen in my 12 years in South Africa.  Over the next 13 years that I was to live in this rich and diverse country, significant progress continued to be made in integrating the races more fully and breaking down old divisions. 

In any event, I reported for my new job in the Tsetse Control offices located among the buildings and research facilities in the Agricultural Research Station north of the City of Salisbury (now Harare) in an area known as “the avenues.”  I had brought most of my meager possessions with me in a metal trunk (27 in. long by 12 in. high by 16 inches deep) with a hinged lid and a padlock.  This, I figured, would be a valuable thing to have when living in a tent in the middle of nowhere.  It soon proved its value by being impervious to rain, spiders, scorpions and snakes, while keeping much coveted food such as jars of sugar safely out of the hands of
less-than-honest camp thieves.  After 44 years this metal trunk sits securely in the basement of my house and holds many mementos of my days in Africa.
   
I was issued with basic camp equipment; a tent with fly sheet, a canvas tarpaulin to use as a ground sheet, a mosquito net, high-pressure kerosene lamp, a canvas stretcher with three flexible steel metal legs to sleep on, a small canvas “wash basin” into which I could pour hot water for shaving or just washing, a sturdy metal table with legs that folded up, a galvanized bucket, shovel, a folding camp chair with canvas seat and back, somewhat like a Hollywood Director’s chair (but not as comfortable) and a metal “mirror”
for use in shaving or general grooming.  In general I suppose I was issued essential items much as a soldier would receive when moving into a forward area and setting up a base camp – without MREs.
In addition I was allotted a canvas water-bag.  When filled with water, this would keep the contents cool by evaporation through the bag.  This was generally, as I learned, hung from the front rear view mirror of your Land Rover for maximum cooling effect. This didn’t work too well on the highway however.   At high speed, on a hot day, the water would completely evaporate and the water bag would be empty when you arrived at your destination.  But it did work well when hung in the shade of a tree.

Over and above these basics, I drew on my own camping experience to purchase appropriate utensils (pots and pans), cups, plates, bowls, etc. and aerosol insecticide.  A key piece of equipment was my basic shower contraption, which I assembled from a 10 gallon can with the bottom removed and a wire hanger attached.  The top end had a removable threaded metal cap. At a hardware store I bought a length of pipe, to which I attached a faucet handle and a wide spray shower nozzle.  This would screw into the hole in top of the 10 gallon can and allow me to control the flow of water.  There is a photograph here of one of the typical showers that field staff would set up when we established camp.  It consisted of a frame made of poles and sticks and a thatch covering around the outside, providing a good degree of privacy. In the middle a shallow hole was dug in the ground over which a small “raft” of sticks was placed and the water would drain through the sticks and seep away.

One of the true, great, pleasures of living in the bush is that moment, when, after a long hot day in the sun, one could step under a container of hot (or very warm) water, reach up, turn on the spigot and let the accumulated dust and sweat of the days exertions be washed away.  I soon learned that I would be covered with many little scratches, abrasions and insect bites.  So I began to add a small bottle-cap measure of a mild antiseptic solution (Sanpic) which took away the itches and stings and kept me from developing sores.

Of course, I was also issued the necessary manuals, maps, aerial photographs, hand-held compass, and documentation regarding methods and procedures for conducting a Tsetse Control field operation.  I registered my .375 magnum rifle with the authorities and would  always carry that with me.  Only once in the following two years would I have to use it for protection; for the most part it often provided the camp and our field staff and laborers with welcomed supplies of game meat.

My government-issue Land Rover was signed over to me soon after my arrival and I was schooled in procedures for obtaining fuel at Government (CMED – Central Mechanical Equipment Department) facilities.  Generally I was to find that government record-keeping procedures were easy to understand and pretty straightforward.  One just had to be careful that the thin sheets of carbon paper were placed between each of the five or six pages of each form and that you pressed firmly with the ballpoint pen and wrote on a hard
surface – such as the hood (or “bonnet”) of the Land Rover.

As far as food goes, in my first few months I stuck to the basics and, over time developed a pretty good list of essentials required to keep me nourished for the 25 days of each month I would spend in the “bush.”  I always took a bag of oranges and apples, as they kept well.  A small bag of flour, a bag of rice, a bag of potatoes, a couple of ball jars of sugar, coffee, etc., a loaf or two of bread that would last maybe a week, two dozen fresh eggs, powdered milk, a fruit juice concentrate to dilute with camp water, some canned meats and vegetables, some spaghetti and other pasta and a few boxes of cookies (or “biscuits” in the local vernacular).  I was rarely close to any towns so ‘running’ to the store for provisions was not often an option.  At times there would be a African owned store in the vicinity and these would provide basic goods such as soap, detergents, tea, soft drinks (sodas), toothpaste, etc.  It was sometimes a welcome stop at these stores as they had kerosene (paraffin) refrigerators or freezers and sometimes an ice-cold Coca-Cola or beer was a real treat. They would have a good selection of basic tools, screws and nails, wire, cast iron cooking pots and a huge
selection of items that you would not generally see in a city store. If it had ever been necessary for me to buy a bicycle, one only had to look overhead and they were hanging from the ceiling.

During one of my field assignments our camp was set up overlooking the Umniati River in the Urungwe Tribal Trust Land (TTL), not too far from a Mission called Sanyati.  In this instance we were able to receive medical treatment should any of our laborers, field officers or camp staff require it. During the two or three months that I was there two of our senior African field officers suddenly developed a severe rash. It seemed like it might be a food allergy but none of the other men had shown similar symptoms and all had been eating pretty much the same food.  The doctors at Sanyati Mission quickly diagnosed the problem as an allergic reaction to eating elephant meat. Application of a skin cream and stopping eating the elephant meat proved the diagnosis was correct and they were back to normal within a few days. We had been provided with a consignment of dried, salted, elephant meat from the Department of Parks and Wildlife and this was quite popular among most of the men. Where else in the world would an allergy to elephant meat show up as a medical emergency?    

Generally speaking, when on a long-term control operation, we would work for 25 consecutive days then return to Salisbury for R&R for five days. So we worked through the weekends and that didn’t give us a break to explore the local hot spots, even if there ever were any.  Our means of communicating with Tsetse control Headquarters was by use of a shortwave radio network.  Working on pre-established
morning and afternoon radio schedules we would call in to headquarters and give a brief daily report on progress or any unexpected occurrences or requirements.  In the event of medical emergencies we could call in at any time of the day. 
  
Soon after my preparations were complete I was sent out to my first assignment to get my feet wet (figuratively speaking of course) and learn the ropes on the forward lines of the Tsetse Wars.  A camp had been set up northwest of Karoi (now Karoyi) on the road heading north toward Makuti and Lake Kariba.  For some reason I recall taking the “Vuti” turnoff, halfway between Karoi and Makuti.

There was nothing at the turnoff except a sign saying Vuti.  From Vuti we drove about 25 or 30 miles on dirt roads and past very productive farms in a Native Purchase Area.  NPAs had been established in Rhodesia many years before to give local tribesmen the ability to buy and hold title to their own land.  This was leading more and more people to move away from the traditional “subsistence farming” mentality that was restricting crop production and prosperity across most countries of Africa.  On my way past the first NPA farms
I had ever seen there were hundreds of bags of harvested cotton awaiting transport to market. Rhodesia, at the time, was producing ever increasing crops of cotton and natives in these NPAs were earning significant cash incomes from their efforts.

I remember talking about this success to an agricultural extension officer in the town of Karoi who told me that each year, several of  the native farmers from the NPAs would come into town after a successful cash crop harvest and buy a new tractor or other implements and pay cash for them.

In my next blog I will describe a typical “Tsetse Fly Control operation” and discuss the seriousness of the tsetse fly threat that exists in Africa today - as it did in the 1960s.