#BookReview: Load, Aim…. Fire!

Eighteen-year-old Duncan Mattushek was fresh out of Stanger High when he was called up for compulsory military service in January 1974.

Those were the bad old days when South Africa was embroiled in a bush war in South West Africa and Angola.

Until then life had been a breeze – school in the small town, beach and sunshine at Blythedale Beach and Salt Rock, Saturday movies and popcorn at the Raj Mahal or Picture Palace. Ice cream at 3c. Who’s complaining?

An outgoing, sporty lad, Duncan moved effortlessly into army life as a gunner with 4 Field Artillery Regiment in Potchefstroom.

So much so that when given the opportunity to sign for a further 12 months (to avoid annual camps), he volunteered. As he then had to complete two years of national service he applied to attend Artillery School where he qualified as an artillery instructor.

He was enjoying himself, learning new skills and making new friends. He felt he was at least doing something of interest and constructive in his time. He was not concerned when the regiment deployed to the Caprivi Strip on the Angolan border. If you had to do it, you might as well make the best of it.

Until one fateful day when the regiment deployed into Angola. His platoon was on their way to deploy in South-East Angola and the Unimog vehicle hit a landmine – and Duncan’s life changed forever.

Forty-five years later, he has given an extraordinary account of that fateful day and all that followed. The deaths of three fellow soldiers and his own horrific injuries were but the start of what was to become a flood of casualties in the border war.

In a self-published book, ‘Load, Aim….Fire’, Duncan has put together a blow-by-blow account of what happened, from his own memories, those of others who served with him on the border and later in one Military Hospital in Pretoria.

“The first thing I remember was waking up to see a bright orange full moon in the sky. I lifted my right arm and in the light of the moon I could see long pieces of charred skin hanging from my hand. I couldn’t feel my body at all, and it was probably a good thing that my nostrils had been singed so I couldn’t smell my burnt clothes, hair or flesh.”

He had been sitting above the fuel tank which, although diesel, had been ignited by exploding ammunition on the Unimog.

Flown to Pretoria, surgeons amputated his left arm and right hand. He spent the next nine months undergoing excruciating skin grafts and treatment to coax the burns over most of his body to heal.

Then he had to learn to live with the prosthetic arms that replaced his arm and hands.

To say that was difficult would be an understatement.

But, back home in Durban, he showed the kind of spirit that would keep him strong for many years ahead, by joining a karate dojo! Ten years of dedication and hard work later, he was presented with his black belt.

He studied farming at Cedara Agricultural College where he qualified with a distinction in farm planning, then worked on various farming enterprises around the country.

In 1980 he married Stanger girl Irene Anderson. They emigrated to New Zealand where he worked on a large livestock farm, managing quite well with few adapted tools, a quad bike to get around and much support from his wife.

The big question reading this, at times, numbing account, is ‘How on earth does he cope with all that has been thrown at him?’

His elder brother and Salt Rock resident, Val, says their parents, his wife Irene and her parents provided incredible support.

“Duncan is an inspiration to me with his ‘never give up’ attitude. It would be this perseverance and tenacity that would aid Duncan in his full recovery. I am proud to be his brother.”

In spite of all the awkwardness of being gawked at by strangers and children and, worse, being treated by some as mentally retarded (!), he is often asked how he manages to be such a happy person.

“I choose to be happy. I am very fortunate to have been able to surround myself with an amazing network of people, family, friends, employers, co-workers, medical and technical wizards. I lost my hands but gained the knowledge that I am so much more than my body parts. The fact that I should not have survived my 20th year, but did, makes me feel very lucky and happy.”

Duncan delights in a story when Irene returned by air from a trip to South Africa with a spare pair of prosthetic arms in her baggage. At Auckland airport a customs official said, “What’s in the box, ma’am?” Without thinking she replied, “My husband’s arms.” He raised his eyebrows, then completely deadpan, asked, “And where is the rest of his body?”

Written in a straightforward, matter-of-fact way, Duncan’s shocking but heart-lifting tale is also loaded with emotion. It is an inspiration to anyone who has suffered a traumatic event or is living with a disability.

Profits from this book go to military veterans in need. To buy a copy, contact Kevin@camerapress.co.za for details.

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