To travel is to see. When you travel your eyes get peeled and your mind is opened to new and uncharted territory.
And in recent years I have developed a strange passion to take pictures of vintage cars wherever I go.
Vintage vehicles hold a lot of stories and draw plenty of interest from people not only in Zimbabwe but in various parts of the world.
One major highlight of my recent trip to Umzingwane rural district was an old and rusty ‘‘High Boy’’ which at the peak of the 1970s intense Zimbabwe guerrilla war was known in Matabeleland as “Isigudugudu.”
When I saw the rusty vintage military vehicle at Woodlands Lodge near Esigodini in Umzingwane which Rhodesians called the ‘‘High Boy,’’ — the Leopard Security Vehicle, a V-shaped hull vehicle, it blew my mind.
I knew that this vehicle had a storied past and I should take some pictures to capture memories of this vehicle which Rhodesians built to minimise damage and fatalities from landmine incidents, at the height of the armed struggle.
The lodge has one High Boy on display. Though rusty and old, it captures the imagination of every visitor to this spot, a few metres off Gwanda Road.
Its preservation at this site, sees a continual stream of people who want to see the historic vehicle and relive memories of the past.
Vintage military vehicles bring a bit of life to the country’s struggle for independence.
This vehicle was a target of two of the largest guerilla movements – the Zimbabwe African National Liberation Army (ZANLA) and the Zimbabwe People’s Revolutionary Army (ZIPRA).
As the war intensified from 1975, the Rhodesians used the anti-tank and anti-vehicle mines to minimise damage and fatalities from landmine incidents.
During that time, Rhodesia farmers and soldiers suffered huge blows on the war front as freedom fighters intensified their onslaught on the Ian Smith regime.
Scores of Rhodesian farmers and soldiers were killed by landmines set by freedom fighters.
An arms embargo worsened the plight of the Rhodesians. They had to look inward to develop the Leopard — a mine-resistant vehicle developed to save Rhodesian farmers and soldiers from deadly attacks from guerrillas.
Historical records indicate that the ‘‘High Boy’’ was designed to prevent the possibility of a focused landmine blast directly under the vehicle.
Vintage military writers say a total of 800 Leopards were manufactured at Willowvale Motor Industries between 1974 and 1979.
“During the war, people here used to call it ‘Isigudugudu’ (the Leopard vehicle),” says Mihla Mabhena (60) of Habane in Esigodini, when I showed him a picture of the vintage military vehicle.
“The mere presence of the vehicle in our village in Mawabeni would leave us terrified. It’s a symbol of Rhodesian military brutality. Comrades used to revel in blasting the vehicles with their bazookas.”
Others say many Rhodesian soldiers were killed or maimed by landmines despite the use of these vehicles.
“When I was young Rhodesian soldiers would use these vehicles to patrol the keeps and other areas where blacks lived.
‘‘To me, this vehicle meant death,” recalled Amon Sigoqo of Esigodini.
“It has lots of sad memories for me. Rhodesian soldiers would beat up blacks and even kill people accused of being sell-outs. Isigudugudu — brings a lot of dark memories of the past.”
The Leopard is a major historical highlight for Zimbabwe and those who see it remember scores of black people who were killed or maimed to free the country from white minority rule.
This ‘‘High Boy’ could carry five passengers and a driver until 1978 when the allowed capacity was reduced to four passengers and a driver only as Rhodesians suffered heavy military losses.
It used the 1600cc engine of the VW ‘‘Type 2’’ (T2b) Kombi transporter and was produced by Volkswagen Brazil from 1975 – 1979.
It was modified at Willowvale Motor Industries to accommodate the Leopard body.
The brains behind the design of the vehicle was Ernest Konschel, a self-employed electrical and mechanical engineer who took an active interest to research on land-mine damaged vehicles and mine craters after the death of a relative by a landmine in 1974.
He later designed and produced the first in a series of the Leopard range.
“Based on the principle of a deep ‘V’ shaped strengthened body sitting high off the ground which would deflect the force of a mine blast away from the occupants of the vehicle, the Leopards design also featured other essential mine resisting innovations such as — placing the road wheels well away from the body as these generally trigger the mines and allowing the blast to freely dissipate between the wheels and the body,” wrote a vintage military vehicle enthusiast in an online report.
“It has a high ground clearance under the body to allow the blast from mine detonated centrally under the body to easily dissipate and ‘shear’ bolts between the axles and body so as to prevent the full force of the blast being transmitted through to the occupants by disconnecting the body from the axles in the event of a mine blast.
“This ‘modular’ arrangement also allows for the quick exchange of damaged axels in the event of recovering or repairing the vehicle after a mine blast.”
After continually modifying the design, Konschel created the Cougar prototype, replacing the Leopard.
There were more hardware changes to the vehicles used by Rhodesian security forces leading to the development of the Crocodile Armoured Personnel Carrier — a 5 – tonne truck chassis, usually from trucks of Japanese origin such as Nissan, Toyota, or Isuzu.
A Pookie Mine Resistant Ambush Protected Vehicle was later developed. This had a super structure V-hull cabin for one fitted with two rods equipped with metal detecting sensors.
The protracted armed struggle occurred between 1972 and 1979 and more than 20 000 lives were lost.
The heavily rusted Umzingwane ‘‘High Boy’’ carries lots of memories in its V-hull belly.
Even if its days in battle are far behind it, the vintage military vehicles is drawing plenty of interested fans.
From a storied past to the present and future, the vintage military vehicle is getting the love it deserves.
It’s part of our collective memory. – The Herald
