New Salisbury Herald
Salisbury, Rhodesia. Issue no. 3


A regular, if somewhat irregular, chronicle of news on: The Rhodesian Government in Exile

    A Special Report by Foreign Correspondent Paddy McAllport Pettifog Sr.

    Sapa Rooters

    The Rhodesians are coming... again!

    Following a tip-off received in a dark Glaswegian bar from a Scotchman who had had a few too many Scots at the newspaper's expense at the close of the old year, this roving reporter was able to glean some useful information, interspersed with "ochs", "ayes" and "just another wee dram for me, laddy", confirming that clandestine manoeuvres were being held by the Army of the Rhodesian Empire (ARE), despite protests by the African Research Society for Expatriate Holders Of Legitimate Emigrant Status (censored). As an unbiased and objective foreign correspondent I was able to obtain an invitation to observe for a day and report on the progress of the exercise.

    The evening prior to the commencing of the exercise, the Commander in Chief was unavailable for comment as he was busy reviewing his troops at the local "Red Lion and Tusk Inn", testing their resistance to liquid chemical warfare. According to eyewitnesses a brief bout of unarmed combat testing followed later in the evening, using volunteers in the shape of 5 ex-MK members of the newly Africanised SANDF Paraboot battalion, who had wandered into the bar in search of entertainment. Police will be investigating the Field Marshal's claim that the 5 MK's had lied about being para-trained as they were unable to survive his men's launching of them from the Inn rooftop with bedsheets in a LALO demonstration.

    "They claimed to be elite paras who could land on an X using only a bedsheet-sized parachute," the Field Marshal was heard to protest to police investigators afterwards, "but when we chalked an X on the road and donnered them off the roof with sheets tied to their necks the blerry frauds just splatted onto the pavement!" He added thoughtfully "maybe they meant double-bed sheets?"

    The following morning the Field Marshal beamed proudly at the sight of his men demonstrating an aggressive charge across an open field, elbowing each other out of the way in order to get at the enemy with bare hands and improvised weapons in the form of bottle-openers.

    "We train them a lot with sporting activities, you know, rugby mainly," the FM told me. I asked if this was to toughen them up and instill a killer instinct? "Hell, no," the FM replied, "rugby is a man's game, if I wanted vicious psychopaths out to injure and maim, I'd have them playing soccer..."

    In the bush nearby I could hear the sounds of a newly-constituted armoured unit training with much revving of engines, clanging of spanners, banging of hammers, and colourful language floating across the still air. Every so often there would be a shout of "Medic!" with that worthy gentleman trooping off yet again to attend them, muttering "idiots are all thumbs, and they never seem to miss them...!"

    As I watched the troopies hacking viciously into the bush at the other end of the field, I remarked to the FM that his men took the business of getting to grips with the enemy very seriously. He remarked "Ja, well, sometimes they need a bit of added incentive - I told them that the Press has donated a crate of Castle for the occasion and that it's hidden in the bush over there..."

    I told the FM "It's very generous of you to let the Press have the credit in the interest of good public relations, but how aggressive will your men be when it comes down to the more serious side of things?" He replied "Well, you'll find out when they get back - I lied to them about the crate of Castle, couldn't afford one..."

    [Editor's note: We are sure that our foreign correspondent will back with us next month when the plaster casts come off and the wires have been fitted into his jaw.]


    The fledgling Air Force of the Rhodesian Empire stretched its wings yesterday with a fly past somewhere in the north-east of the southern part of the Western Cape, hosted by the Boere Liberty Front, which has claimed that particular part of the country for its new "Republic of Transvalia". Three jets screamed overhead to the sound of applause from a small crowd of selected observers. The Rhodesian Minister of Defence was seen surreptitiously wiping away a tear as he beamed skywards at "his boys". Later he refused to answer questions on the type or origin of the jets, saying only that they were "donated voluntarily by a neighbouring African country of their own free will. Honest."


    Zambia staged its first International Air Show this year, and government officials declared it a resounding success, despite a few minor hitches. The crowd, which included tribesmen from a nearby kraal, were visibly moved when several MiGs flew overhead and simulated a bombing run as part of the Lithuanian demonstration. Many of the tribesmen are in fact still visibly moving in a northerly direction with great haste... Numerous spears, loincloths and goats have been deposited with the Airfield's "Lost and Found" counter.

    The crowd "oohed" and "aahed" and looked suitably impressed as a huge Antonov was dragged across the airfield by a tractor, the announcer apologetically explaining that it couldn't fly past due to the fuel tank having been mysteriously emptied by persons unknown the night before, while the pilot and guards were celebrating with tower officials.

    The finale was to feature a fly past of three South African built Cheetah jets, recently donated by that country in honour of its new status as Zambia's major trade creditor and as an attempt to persuade the country to buy some more and actually pay for them someday.

    For over an hour the heads of the crowd swayed expectantly from left to right, and back again, necks craning in an effort to spot the new jets. Some excitement ensued as a flock of birds flew overhead, tastefully decorating some of the upturned faces, but there was no sign of the jets. The tower officials frantically tried to call up the pilots, their voices booming over the loudspeakers on the field, through which their communications were being relayed so that the crowd could follow developments. After a final attempt, just as the crowd began to drift away in the direction of the beer hall, the tower officials were startled to hear the strains of a song suddenly crackling over the loudspeakers, with the words "no-one in the world to heed her, tomorrow the world will know...", which for some reason seemed to greatly accelerate the efforts of the crowd to reach the airfield exits. The song was then cut short by laughter and a few burps, and all further efforts to raise the pilots were unsuccessful.

    The organisers of the Air Show have indicated that they will be informing the Zambian Police of this apparent theft of their aircraft just as soon as they get the telephone lines repaired and retrieve their missing telephones. It was reported that some of the tribesmen had been much taken with these "talking bones" during the show and had subsequently absconded with them.


    At a well attended party on Old Years' Night the PM announced that both the Minister of African Affairs and the Minister of .... had been awarded the coveted MRE (Member of the Rhodesian Empire) for their stirling efforts in defending the Government in Exile during a series of "indabas" with opponents.

    At the party a host of new Ministers, Ambassadors and Consular Generals were welcomed to the fold. Port from the Eckers Vineyard in Portugal flowed freely, and the C in C of the Air Force could be seen huddled with the Minister of Defence at a corner table studiously examining pictures of naked ladies, which they hurriedly explained were being vetted for possible use as "nose art" on the new Air Force planes. At another table two members of the Rhodesian South Africa Police (RSAP) could be heard vociferously discussing the merits of Fishhoek as a place of domicile. Pausing in their argument only to quaff huge draughts of ale, they were soon waving handcuffs at each other and each threatening to arrest the other for libel. By the time the floor show was to begin they were clapping each other on the back, swearing eternal friendship as long as the other kept his trap shut, and trying unsuccessfully to unravel their tangled handcuffs.

    A hush fell over the gathering as the lights dimmed and a very nubile and scantily-clad African lady in thigh-high boots appeared on stage and began to sing. Within minutes there was an uproar, but before the young lady could be bodily ejected from the building, the Minister of Tourism grabbed the mike and announced that the lady was actually Miss Samantha Fox, noted British singer and "Page Three girl", who had been invited to perform for them...

    While the Ministers gaped in disbelief at what appeared to be a black Miss Fox, the entertainer, visibly embarrassed, explained to the Minister, "Well, luv, my agent just told me it was to be a New Year's gig for some newly emerging African State, and I should try to blend in a bit and not look like a colonialist, so I just thought I'd use a bit of boot polish, like..."

    After the Minister of Tundras had insisted on rubbing vigorously (not lecherously, he stated, as some reports later claimed, ) at bits of her anatomy to ascertain that she was in fact covered in boot polish, Miss Fox was advised to visit the washroom, with several Ministers clamouring to escort her and volunteering their services as "scrubbers." These offers, along with those of the military leaders present, already frantically searching for their binoculars, to "stand eagle-eyed guard at the doors and windows of the washroom" were refused. An offer by the Chief Whip to hold her towel for her was dismissed on the grounds that he was against women having the vote, and therefore was left holding the towel.

    However, before the impromptu convoy could make a move towards the washroom the clock struck twelve, and Ministers immediately lined up to embrace and wish Miss Fox a Happy New Year. Several Ministers had to be forcibly restrained by the time they had repeatedly dispensed good wishes and kisses up to the year 2010. Splotchy black polish-smeared faces were the order of the day, with the African doormen who popped inside to wish the Ministers a Happy New Year exiting even more rapidly, screaming incoherently about "Skuzapo's" being back...

    Ultimately, all agreed that the party had been a resounding success, despite the fact that as they filed out, a scruffy young passer-by accosted the Minister of Foreign Affairs and was seen to make attempts to grasp his thumb. Afterwards, while the young man lay dazed on the pavement amid scattered teeth, the Minister was heard to say indignantly, "High Five, my arse, congratulating me on my colourful show of solidarity with the downtrodden masses, I ask you... how the bloody hell did he get that idea???"

    Reports the next day that a clandestine unit of Selous Scouts in "Black is Beautiful" camouflage were spotted fanning out towards local bars the previous night to continue New Year celebrations, were denied by a somewhat hungover Rhodesian Government in Exile spokesman. Reporters incredulously dismissed his muddled attempts to blame the rumours on a "Puss in Boots with a tin of shoe polish" as a fairy tale and probably due to the after-effects of overindulgence on Old Year's Night.


    News that the appropriation of farm lands in Zim has been cancelled was greeted with much rejoicing among the Ministers of the Exile Government. When asked to comment on what might have caused the sudden change in the Zim regime's plans, the recently appointed Minister of Local Affairs was heard to rather modestly declare "Yes, well, after all, I did write the bugger a pretty nasty letter about it..."


    Ministers of the Rhodesian Exile Government yesterday dismissed Jackson's "flying tour" of 35 African countries as a vote-gathering stunt. Jackson's campaign manager had written to them in an effort to include "your wonderful, democratic and peace-loving nation" in his tour, asking for directions and instructions on where to find it. Jackson's press agent denied that his visit had anything to do with garnering the negro vote in upcoming elections, and pointed out that Jackson had made a deep and thorough study of the continent of Africa, its history and traditions, and was convinced that the continent was destined to play a major role in world affairs someday. The letter continued:

    "So far we have stopped over in about 30 countries, and are presently in Goblinerone, the capital of the wonderful, peace-loving country of Natal. At our previous stop in Zambezi, the capital of the beautiful country of Lusaka, we were welcomed by thousands of free peace-loving citizens, a living monument to what democracy has achieved in that country after the French yoke of colonialism was overthrown in the Boer wars of 1950!"

    Reporters accompanying Jackson described how the famous man was determined to include every country in Africa in his tour. His tight schedule only allowed him to stop at each airfield on the route, step out of the plane, wave to the admiring crowds and shout "Thank you for your warm hospitality, you are a wonderful people, I love you all, know what I'm saying?!" before stepping back into the plane and enquiring "which hell-hole is next on the list and which maniac rules it?" His press agent hurriedly explained that this last was an example of Jackson's unique sense of humour and his way of showing solidarity with the masses, "he's actually very proud of his African roots, and even plans to return here to live." Asked where and when, the press agent replied "well, he's carefully considering all his options and weighing all possibilities. He wants to make a balanced decision based on careful observation and an intimate acquaintance with the people and their traditional African culture. He's an extremely cultural person and the place he decides on must be able to offer TV, Coke, Rap-music and at least a local branch of the Michael Jackson fan club. He just has to have a deeply cultural environment. So far he's got London and Sun City on his short list from the places in Africa we stopped at."

    Asked for his comments, Jackson smiled at reporters and by way of answer, inserted a CD into the player in his private plane, telling them that it was a gift sent to him by the Rhodesian Government, which had apologised for not being able to receive him in the way they would have liked, but that the song would say it all for them. "It's a traditional African song," Jackson said, and explained that the Rhodesian spokesman had called it the African version of "Go Tell it on the Mountain." Thoughtfully, he added, "I think it would make a good campaign theme song. Maybe I should have my name changed so people will identify me with it better, know what I mean? The name Bobby-John would fit me to a T, waddya think?"

    He sighed, enraptured, as the strains of the song filled the plane -

    Bobbejan klim die berg....


    You can visit the site of the Rhodesian Embassy in Japan via the following link:
    Rhodesia Embassy Homepage

    © © © ©

    Applicants needed to fill posts with the New Rhodesian CIO. Secretive types preferred, previous experience with raincoats and sunglasses not essential or required. Applicants must be able to keep secrets, lie glibly and look suitably innocent and surprised when caught in the act - (in view of these requirements married men will be given preference, the longer married the better). Perks include occasional attempts at seduction by glamorous operatives (unfortunately not ours) seeking state secrets, which must be rejected from time to time to keep up appearances. Results of all applications will be kept secret until the Govt has ascertained the identity of the new CIO Chief in order for him to confirm appointments. Good salary scales offered, but these are secret, so we can't tell applicants until after they join. Salaries are paid into secret bank accounts at secret intervals in unspecified countries under assumed names from a secret slush fund, which the Govt doesn't know exists, and successful applicants are expected to find out for themselves where and when, and how much they earn.

    As a preliminary test, applicants are invited to help solve the coded text of a postcard received from the as yet unidentified Head of New CIO and inform the appropriate Minister (who cannot be named) of his real identity and whereabouts at this time. Postcard displays voluptuous blonde in string bikini on beach (obviously intended to mislead) with text on back reading "Putting the slush fund to good use finding suitable candidates for under-covers activities, glad you're not here, cheers, ****. Postmarked Bermudas. Similar cards have been received from Rio, Monaco, St. Tropez, Ibiza, Florida, and Vladivostok. The text is obviously a code for some important information, but the code is secret and the code books, whose existence is secret, are hidden in a secret place. The Government will be highly grateful if anyone can shed light on this matter, solve the code and let us know just what the CIO Head is doing...

    Unfortunately we cannot give a box number to which applicants can write, as this is secret, and we're not really sure which number it is ourselves, or who is handling the applications. Under no circumstances must the contents of this ad be made public by applicants, no passing on to family, colleagues or friends please, this must be kept TOP SECRET! Please also keep your application secret by writing in an unidentified code and not mentioning which post you are applying for, or why.

    We cannot reply to ridiculous questions such as "Did I get in or not?"; "Who is that chap in the raincoat standing outside my house all day?" or "Why did you accept me when I didn't even apply in the first place?" We have only one response to all such questions:

    Not telling...

Editorial Disclaimer:
Contributions may or may not reflect editorial policy, mostly they will, but not necessarily so on occasion, or even in all cases. Just like girls - sometimes they will, sometimes they won't...

Letters to the editor will be accepted for publication in future issues. Please sign with your full name if expressing controversial opinions, and if resident in Zim, include directions for finding your house, where possible using old street names for the benefit of those older members of the CIO who have not quite mentally adjusted to the new order yet. A copy of your letter pasted in a front window, with a large painted arrow pointing at your front door would be greatly appreciated.

Letters for publication may be sent to THE EDITOR. All letters will be treated with the utmost, impartial, respect for freedom of speech, but we reserve the right to distort them where necessary, change wording at will, and otherwise reverse all opinions expressed in them. Profane letters will not be published, but will be placed in the editor's private collection along with any "artistic" photos of themselves that female readers may wish to contribute.


Troopie on manoeuvres...

The new passport
Rhodesian passport


Indaba listserv - you can make the acquaintance of some of the illustrious members of the Rhodesian Government in Exile, plus a lot of the peasants and common folk by joining INDABA.

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Aircraft going spare for negotiable price, not too many previous owners, with or without papers. Preferably without bullet holes. Reply with full details, including mileage on the clock, recent checkups, oil changes, and if spare tyres and jack included.

The legality of the Rhodesian Government in Exile has been confirmed by the fact that it now has an official opposition party (poor misguided souls), who have set up a web site in a vain attempt to oppose our juggernaut (some hope) from regaining its rightful place at the head of our ever-expanding empire. If you are misguided enough to want to read their policy statements, or are just at a loss where to get your next laugh, you can find them at:
Zimbabwe46 's Home Page
Although it seems serious, we suspect that it's actually a gigantic spoof put on by students of the Rhodesian Empire University as an absolutely ingenious satire on African politics. So don't come crying to us afterwards and claim we didn't warn you! Be advised that if you click the above link, all kinds of inedible cookies will start insinuating themselves onto your hard drive, your name and location will be fed back to us in cgi bins, and isp fingers will start pointing, ferreting out your most intimate details and ftp-ing them onto our mainframe (Microsap taught us well). But we're a democratic government, so feel free to vote for them if you wish to risk everything you hold dear (your life, liberty, mistress, wine cellar, etc)...

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