A motorcycle excursion in the streets of Bethlehem

Somewhere during 1976, the South African Defence Force made a film featuring Bridge 14 – a very specific bridge building operation during Operation Savannah in Angola the year before. During the filming on a farm near Bethlehem in the Free State, a shooting accident caused an injury to a colleague of mine, lieutenant Douw Steyn. As far as I can recall, a blank was fired from an armoured car during the filming, and the blast ripped a piece of metal from another close-by armoured car’s hatch which hit Steyn in the leg.

I was the orderly officer at 2 Field Engineer Regiment in Bethlehem on that Saturday when this happened. At around 11:00 a call came through on the radio from the filming location, saying that Douw Steyn had been shot. No more detail was given. They would be taking him directly to Bethlehem’s provincial hospital and I had to make sure that our military doctor was there when the ambulance arrived.

I phoned Dr Pienaar’s home number to inform him about the incident, but his wife said that he’d gone to town and mentioned the shops where I could possibly find him.  

This was before the days of cellphones. I jumped on my scrambler and took over the streets of the town in search of the doctor. I ignored the speed limit, raced up one-way streets, and skipped many a red traffic light on that busy Saturday morning in the town of Bethlehem.

I soon found the doctor and instructed him to go to the hospital. 

Back at the military base, it occurred to me that, for civilians who were unaware of the situation that morning, the sight of a uniformed officer speeding through the streets could have been alarming – and understandably so. It was certainly not the kind of image we would wish to project on behalf of the Army.

Wanting to do the right thing, I contacted the local traffic department to explain the circumstances behind my high-speed, and admittedly reckless, excursion through their town on a motorbike.

I introduced myself as captain Du Preez from the military base to the traffic officer who answered the call. I explained the events as they had unfolded and stressed the urgency that had led me to “jaag deur die strate” (to race through the streets – the conversation was in Afrikaans) as the situation demanded. I asked that he please convey this context to anyone who might enquire or raise a complaint.

There was a long pause on the other end of the line – one of those dramatic silences you only get in movies or when someone’s brain hits the brakes. I got the impression that the traffic officer was standing to attention when the reply came, and I could tell the gravity of the situation was real: “All in order, captain. I will do so.”

Then, with the kind of formal flair only reserved for executive decisions, he added: “En, kaptein, as jy nog deur die strate wil gaan jaag, mag jy maar!” (And captain, if you wish to continue racing through the streets – you may do so!)

That morning, the honour of the freedom of entry to the town of Bethlehem was bestowed upon captain Johannes Christiaan du Preez of 2 Field Engineer Regiment by the local traffic cop!

(Johan du Preez)