Salute to Acutt: A sold ier marches off
COLONEL Patrick Acutt celebrates his 65th birthday today – a day of mixed emotion as its marks the end of his 47 years of service in the SANDF. It is a remarkable achievement as few soldiers reach such a milestone.
His career began in much the same way as it did for most 17-year-old white schoolboys in 1971. A draft call-up was posted to young Acutt in his matric year at Durban High School, instructing him to report the next January for nine months of compulsory national service.
His father Jack Acutt was the honorary colonel of Natal Mounted Rifles (NMR), South Africa’s oldest armoured regiment. Through his contacts he secured his son a call-up to 1 Special Services Battalion (1SSB) in Bloemfontein – the seat of armour – after which Acutt would be posted to NMR with which the family had had links since the 1860s.
A long-haired Acutt duly reported for service at Lord’s Ground Military Base in Durban, cocksure and ready to show the army a thing or two.
Of course, it was the other way around: drill, inspections, more drill, route marches and PT cut the teenage bravado down to size but produced a well-disciplined soldier.
There are odd anomalies in the defence force. While still 17, Acutt passed his military licences for both a sedan and a three-ton Bedford truck. But he could not legally drive a civilian vehicle until he turned 18.
Not long after his birthday, he drove alone in a military Valiant to the testing ground in Bloemfontein. The surprised clerk dispensed of the three-month waiting
In addition to his successful military career, he is also a successful business person Jonathan Acutt Colonel Patrick Acutt’s son
list, gave Acutt a quick learner’s test followed by a short drive around the block. Thirty minutes later, he was the proud recipient of a civilian licence but without a car of his own. That, of course, was soon remedied.
Trooper Acutt’s arrival at NMR in 1974 was not auspicious. Long-haired (again), he rocked up for his first camp and strolled into a warrant officers’ tent unannounced.
Severely ticked off, he was sent outside, ordered to knock on the tent flap and wait to be invited in. Seated inside was Neville “Nunky” Alexander, who would become a legendary Regimental Sergeant-major of NMR and a lifelong friend.
Major Bruce Hearn, a future Officer Commanding (OC) had a quiet chat with Trooper Acutt, reminding him of the Acutt family commitment and sense of duty. It was a turning point, which set him on a path of service in NMR. Appointed an officer, he would rise through the ranks until in 1996 when he would succeed Lieutenant-colonel Hearn as Officer Commanding of NMR.
His service saw him on the border in Operation Savannah, followed by rigorous training, numerous camps and in the many ceremonial parades associated with a traditional regiment.
Enormous sacrifices were made, particularly on his family and free time. Simultaneously, he was building a career in the family real estate business, Acutts, which he would go on to chair for many years.
After 1994, the citizen force regiments reverted to the volunteer status on which they had originally been founded. Most officers walked away from service in a democratic South Africa, but a minority remained to guide and lead their units into a brave new world.
As OC of NMR from 1996 to 2002, Acutt experienced both the triumph of a multiracial, spirited regiment as well as the frustration of harsh budget cuts accompanied by reduced training opportunities.
It was a frustration he would fight in his final posting – at Lord’s Ground – as the senior staff officer of the defence reserves in Kwazulu-natal.
This was a posting in which he thrived, bringing to it both his military and civilian experience.
It was fitting that he should organise the dawn to dusk centennial commemoration of the end of World War I on November 11 last year.
On Thursday night, a farewell formal dinner was held at Durban Light Infantry for more than 200 guests.
The meal was markedly superior to Acutt’s first army dinner 47 years ago. So was the guest list, which included Durban’s deputy mayor, Fawzia Peer, a clutch of generals, current and former commanding officers and an array of business people.
One Medical Battalion Pipe Band, in their final performance in their regimental colours, played a selection of Scottish music, a tribute to both Acutt and, indirectly, to themselves.
The highlight was a remarkable performance by Pipe Major Thomas Fuller of the Highland bagpipe music,
Piobaireachd (pronounced Pea-broch), which received a standing ovation.
As the evening drew to a close, it brought the curtain down on Colonel Pat’s extraordinary military career, in which he had never been afraid to express his opinion.
It had both begun and ended at Lord’s Ground when a young trooper thought he would show the army a thing or two. In the end, he did.