The death of great RLI soldier Al Tourle while running a tracking course in 1972...

... Just before catching Colin that evening, we heard the roar of lions in close proximity on the ridge just above us to the south of the riverbed. We had decided that we would call it a day, find some water and a suitable place to base up for the night. We filled our water bottles and set up our bivvies on level ground above the riverbed. The area was typical heavily wooded mopani trees/savannah, elephant grass and jesse bush vegetation. In other words thick and dense! We were wet and cold from the rainstorm that had just passed over.

... Al had agreed that we could have a fire that night. A very rare treat I might tell you! As light was falling, Colin and I collected some leadwood and started the fire next to two big rocks. The call of the lions echoed through the still of the evening setting. In the meantime Al and Andr were making comms with Pete and the base back at Kariba. They could not get through to Kariba as the relay station had been brought down for a changeover late afternoon. While this was being effected, a storm had hit the relay position, which forced them to abort the exercise until the next morning. The storm was heading towards Kariba.

... After some time around the fire, Andre and Colin retired to their bivvy for the night. Al and I positioned ourselves on the bigger of the two rocks and started to reminisce about the RLI days. The fire had died down and only the glow of the coals remained. It was about 1930hrs (we did not have watches), it was pitch black and there was a light guti (misty rain) falling on the trees above us. The droplets from the leaves were falling to the ground. Mosquitoes had taken over from where the mopani flies had left off. It was quite noisy in its own special way. Suddenly the stillness of the night erupted with the roar of lions upon us. They had crept up on us from behind totally undetected, a feat that has left an indelible impression on me all my life. The one lion landed right on Als back while the other bumped sides with it and was thrown slightly off line. We were both knocked off the rock towards the coals of the fire. Immediately I scrambled to grab my rifle, which was at the opening of my bivvy. When I turned I could just make out that the one lion had Al by the neck and was dragging him between its legs away into the thick scrub. I instinctively double tapped a few rounds over the top of the lion. It dropped Al and disappeared in the darkness.

Andre and Clive had both joined me by now and we went forward to where Als body lay limply. He was unconscious and lying on his side with his head at right angles. As Andre and I were checking his vital signs the lions came charging back at us. We all grabbed our rifles and discharged a few rounds in the direction of the lions. They immediately dispersed under the volley of fire and ran off into the night. Andre and I turned our attention back to Al. He was just starting to come round, bleeding heavily from his chest, neck and back. The lion that landed on him had locked its jaws around Als neck, its upper jaw piercing his chest and lower back, in the process breaking his neck. We rolled him gently onto his back, moving his head as we rolled him over. I could already feel that his lower body was completely limp. We broke open our medical pack and start to dress the open wounds. As we were doing this Al uttered his first few words, Where am I, what happened?
Al Tourle survived the night but died as dawn was breaking and the CASEVAC chopper was approaching. None of the Rhodesian helicopters had a night flying capability.