This restless adventurer
WHAT can it be that motivates a man to operate as a mercenary soldier? To be paid to wage war? It's a question that crops up constantly in a biography of "Mad Mike Hoare" - the highest profile mercenary soldier of recent times – written by his son, Chris.
Mike Hoare fought the Japanese in the jungles of Burma during World War II, emerging with the rank of major. No moral issue there.
He saw much fiercer and more debilitating fighting in the Congo in the sixties against a foe whose fanaticism and totally debauched cruelty against civilians – butchery, rape and cannibalism – made the Japanese look like choirboys.
He was instrumental in putting down a rebellion against the recognised government of the Congo. His 5 Commando rescued scores of nuns, priests, mission doctors and other civilians, children included, from a hideous fate.
Yet the moral questions.
Yes, 5 Commando was a catspaw of the American CIA and mining interests. Hoare was perfectly aware of that – and comfortable with it also, seeing his role as being part of the Cold War, the great struggle between communism and the "free world".
And if an outsider had no right to be fighting for his ideological beliefs in an independent African country, did this not also apply to Cuban Che Guevara, who was attempting the same for the other side (and got a good licking from 5 Commando)?
It was a moral question that arose again when Hoare – by then in his sixties – led an abortive attempt to overthrow the government of the Seychelles Islands.
The incumbent president had got there by way of a coup while the democratically elected one was out of the country. The Seychelles invasion by "Frothblower" pseudo-tourists was intended to re-install the elected president. Plus roll back Soviet influence. So Mike Hoare reasoned.
This biography provides a fascinating insight to the turmoil of the Congo, which continues to this day; also to the character of Hoare himself (now 99 and living in Durban), who personifies the well-mannered British officer class, with a layer of scholarship and erudition on top of that. You couldn't imagine anything further removed from the stereotype of the low-grade, cut-throat mercenary.
What also comes through is Hoare's restless pursuit of adventure, whether in military conflict, yachting, visits to remote wild spots or motorcycling the length of Africa.
As a schoolboy he was drawn to the military and was supposed to go to Sandhurst, the British military academy. But his father died and this plan was scuppered for financial reasons. He ended up instead in chartered accountancy. I'm sure a psychologist would find this interesting.
The biography was originally to be published by an overseas company who specialise in military books. But they wanted to remove all the personal and family material, leaving only the military. Chris Hoare jibbed at this and has instead self-published (www.madmikehoare.com).
Alliteration
MIKE Hoare left the British army after World War II with the rank of major. Journalists covering the Congo ructions dubbed him "the Mad Major". It was a matter of alliteration. Hoare was quite obviously sane and his operations were well-planned and methodical, however daring.
When the Congolese government promoted him to colonel, he did not become the "Crazy Colonel" He became just "Mad Mike Hoare".
In a hostelry in Johannesburg one evening, a few of us tried alliterating all the military ranks: The Potty Private; the Crackpot Corporal; the Silly Sergeant; the Wacky Warrant Officer; the Loopy Lieutenant; the Crazy Captain; the Mad Major (of course); the Cockamamy Colonel; the Barmy Brigadier; the Jackass General; the Fool Field Marshal …It was rather fun.
Tailpiece
AN OLD farmer goes to a pond at the back of his property. As he gets closer, he hears female voices shouting and laughing. Then he finds a bunch of girls skinnydipping in his pond.
They see him and go into the deep water. One shouts: "We're not coming out until you leave!"
"I didn't come here to watch you skinnydipping," he says. "I'm just here to feed the crocodile."
Last word
He wrapped himself in quotations- as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of Emperors.
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