A man stood on the pavement in Main street Bulawayo. Across the wide road from him were hundreds of people all anxiously waiting. The man, dressed as he had for many years, in camouflage shirt, shorts and ‘vellies’. His young son’s arms were wrapped around his father's bare leg;
Suddenly there was a deathly hush… they were coming.
A feint methodical crunch as hob-nailed boots, striking the tarmac surface with exacting precision, became audible.
With every precise step the crowd's anticipation grew.
But no band, no music, no singing… people looked quizzically at one another… what was happening?
The sound of their boots on the hot tar echoed off the buildings, it seemed unnatural as the band appeared followed by the banner bearers and the troops.
"Dad!" the little boy cried out "Why aren't the soldiers singing like they always do?"
The words had not left the young lad's lips when a rich baritone voice sang out the opening stanza to their famous song `Sweet Banana' “OOH, EHH, EE, OH, EE, OH”!!. And as the base drummer beat the pace, the entire battalion burst forth in song “A-B-C-D-HEADQUARTERS, I WILL BUY YOU A SWEET BANANA”
The man stooped down and lifted his son onto his battle hardened shoulders.
"Don't ever forget this sight my boy; these are some of the finest fighting men in history".
They marched past singing their now famous regimental song for the very last time; the Rhodesia African Rifles was no longer… the legacy of their fighting superiority gone …but a legacy which will live on in the hearts of all Rhodesians forever.
There wasn't a dry eye on the streets of Bulawayo that day as they marched past singing “BURMA, EGYPT AND MALAYA….IT WAS THERE THAT WE FAUGHT AND WON"
"Why are you crying Dad?" asked the young lad, truly alarmed at seeing his soldier father in tears.
"O my precious boy" he answered as he pressed him close to his chest; choking back his tears "You are just too young to realize what is happening here; I fought shoulder to shoulder with these men; they are proud Rhodesians, they are fearless Rhodesians; they are possibly the greatest fighting force ever to come out of Africa, and now they are history"
Within a few minutes the streets were back to normal. The man walked back to his car with his son still upon his shoulders, his head bowed to the ground, reflecting on the certain fact, that this day, the day that the R.A.R handed over their colours and disbanded… was the day that Rhodesia died.