Be brave my heart: Takes more than muscle to be Special Forces

 

JACK ZIMBA

 

ON OCTOBER 28, 1997, when a group of soldiers led by an army captain, Steven Lungu, who came to be known by his alias Captain Solo, attempted to overthrow the government of President Frederick Chiluba, a small group of Special Forces soldiers was summoned.

Within a few hours, the coup was over, the renegade soldiers arrested, and the nation saved.

Whether it is protecting the country from an internal or external threat, the Special Forces have been used as the last line of defence, and to carry out operations where conventional troops cannot be deployed or have failed, in most cases, beyond enemy line.

Most recently, the Special Forces were called to action on the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo, where Congolese government troops had hoisted their country’s flag on Zambian territory.

No-one from the Special Forces is willing to talk about the operation, code-named Operation Kulula, which ended the incursion, although it was widely reported in Congolese media.

So who are the Special Forces?

While many outside the military band Special Forces operatives as one entity under the name “commandos”, there are now three distinct elements under the Special Forces unit: Commando, Marine, and the training school in Mbala.

The three elements are differentiated by the badges worn by the operators.

The Commando badge has a dagger, leopard and an eagle, while the Marine badge has a dagger and anchor. The school at Mbala, however, uses all three badges interchangeably.

Then there is the Special Forces Group, which is the central command. Its badge is a dagger and an eagle.

The Special Forces Group is headed by a three-star general, Brig. Gen. Boston Simbuliani, a well-experienced operative with about 30 years of service.

But for all that, he is unassuming and says very little about his involvement with the Special Forces over the years.

When pressed to talk about some missions he has undertaken, all he says is: “I’ve been around.”

Gen. Simbuliani was appointed last April, and he has already put big plans on the table.

So what does it take to become a Special Forces operator?

“Special Forces are basically forces that are assigned for special missions and tasks that are beyond a normal soldier. So where an ordinary soldier fails to do the task, the special forces are called upon,” says Gen. Simbuliani.

Joining the Special Forces is voluntary, but candidates are subjected to a very stringent selection process, which includes an IQ test, as the operators are expected to take initiative in very difficult situations.

But selection is no guarantee one will wear the maroon beret. It marks the start of one of the hardest military trainings.

Colonel Moses Shapwaya has dedicated the past 10 years of his military career to training Special Forces. He now heads the school in Mbala.

At the gate leading to the school, which is at the foot of a mountain, in a forested area, is an inscription that would turn weak hearts away: “Out of pain, the best are created.”

“That is what we believe in,” says Col. Shapwaya. “We want to produce the best, no matter what it takes. The training is designed to be painful, but adventurous.”

And Mbala and the surrounding places have geographical features that offer some of the hardest challenges for Special Forces training.

“It gives us almost 75 percent of the areas we need for training,” says Col. Shapwaya.

Mbala is home to some of the highest peaks in the country, such as Sunzu Hill, with many cliffs.

And Tanganyika, which is the second deepest lake in the world at about 1,500m, is used for training divers.

“As a school, we believe in realistic type of training. We want to be as real as possible; we do not compromise our standards,” says Col. Shapwaya.

And here, no one fires blank shots or rubber bullets, only live ammo.

“It is very expensive to train a Special Forces operator because of the way the programme is designed,” says Col. Shapwaya. “The country spends a lot of money just to produce one commando.”

The programme is also designed to ensure that only the best make it.

About 40 percent of the men who dare enter the training school never get to wear the maroon beret.

Gen. Simbuliani says a good number of regular soldiers who attempt to join the Special Forces fail the test.

Says Col. Shapwaya: “What we want is a person who will endure the many challenging tasks, the risks, so if we just get anyone for the purpose of feeding our numbers, we will be doing ourselves a disservice. We want people who can do the task with minimum resources and a lot of initiatives. If one fails to make it in our system, we offload them to the regular units. You find that what we have trained and has not made it, other units will be looking forward to getting them because they are the best in their circles, but ourselves we may consider them as rejects.”

And it is not just about physical fitness, but the heart, says Col. Shapwaya.

Actually, the common saying among the Special Forces is that “It takes the heart, not the muscle to be a special force”.

And Col. Shapwaya is not afraid of being labelled sexist or receiving a letter from the women’s movement when I ask him about the prospect of training women to join the Special Forces.

He says: “I have never seen any woman volunteer, but I hear many women say ‘it’s not fair, we can also do it’. But the truth of the matter is that commando training has no room for women.”

He adds: “Some countries have a concept where they use women in the Special Forces but for intelligence gathering. Probably that is an area that in future we may consider, to have women assist in getting information for special operations. But to be a Special Forces operator, that is not possible. It’s a big NO. I don’t even know where to start from training a woman to be a special operator.”

In Afghanistan, for instance, women have been allowed to join the Special Forces, but that is for religious and cultural purposes.

And in the US, a female soldier recently made history by becoming the first woman to complete the Special Forces training.

Gen. Simbuliani does not discuss numbers, but of course when it comes to Special Forces, sometimes numbers don’t really count.

A common belief in the military circles is that one commando is equal to 10 regular soldiers. Some put the ratio at one to 30.

But that is not meant in the literal sense, explains Col. Shapwaya.

“When we say one to 10, the meaning is not that I can fight 10 soldiers. I may, I may not. However, the meaning is the capability; what one commando is able to bring to the battle field is what translates into those numbers,” he says.

In fact, Special Forces are also known as force multipliers. A small team of commandos will do so much damage compared to a large number of regular troops, and in most cases, they do not count as boots on the ground.

The dagger is a common symbol for Special Forces used worldwide, and also forms part of the uniform. Actually, a Special Forces operator’s uniform is incomplete without the dagger.

Is the dagger the primary offensive weapon for Special Forces? I ask Col. Shapwaya.

His answer is almost chilling: “The first weapon is the human being himself, the dagger is secondary.”

And at the training school in Mbala, there is a man whose job is to teach operators martial arts armed combat.

Patrick Mulenga, dressed in a neon yellow uniform from the Shaolin Temple, is a black belt master. He has had stints in the US and spent time at a Shaolin Temple in China, where he was top of his class. 

According to Gen. Simbuliani, the Special Forces unit was established in November 1983. Its first camp was in Katete, Eastern Province, before it moved to Mushili in Ndola.

They were initially trained by North Korea, Iraq and later the USA

Gen. Simbuliani says among the factors that influenced the formation of the Special Forces was the insurgency by Adamson Mushala which lasted from 1975 to the mid-1980s.

Then later, there was also the threat from the Mozambican rebel group, Renamo, whose terrorist activities often spilled into Eastern Province. Many Zambian civilians suffered from the raids.

Over the years, the Special Forces have evolved in accordance with modern warfare. There is now a lot of emphasis on terrorism and urban warfare.

“It is a pride for us to have Special Forces, and we would like to conform to other special forces around the world by having specialised training, best equipment and best operators; those that have the heart, not merely passing through,” says Gen. Simbuliani.

And for the Special Forces, wearing the maroon beret is a source of honour.

“Just by merely putting on the maroon beret, is a great incentive, and also to do something that someone else cannot do creates motivation to a soldier, because what he does, he feels, he is the best,” says Gen. Simbuliani.

For Col. Shapwaya, the colour and badge he wears are “a symbol that the nation can rely on me”.

And when it comes to any assignment, the Special Forces are at the President’s beck and call.

“Special forces are never assigned by any other person. In Zambia the only person who can assign Special Forces is the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, who is the President,” says Gen. Simbuliani.

“We cannot operate without the authority of the Commander-in-Chief,” he adds.

The general rates his operators among the best in the region, and he is not merely blowing his own bugle.

The Zambian Special Forces have usually outperformed during joint military trainings under the Southern African Development Community.

But despite their highly specialised training, Special Forces are not invincible.

“We don’t take it for granted that simply because we are Special Forces we won’t suffer casualties; I think we will be cheating ourselves. Whatever we do, death will always be there, but death will not stop us from achieving that which we desire. Our main aim is succeeding. Failure is what would demotivate us,” Brig. Gen. Simbuliani says.

And in front of the offices at Mushili Barracks is a memorial dedicated to three operatives who died in combat.

They are human after all.