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Hop and the Trooper
Disabled American Veteran in Namibia
By Pieter Stofberg, PH

Through correspondence Matt and I struck up a friendship and, during my trip to the USA early in 2002, I was invited to stay with the Normans while I visited Detroit. Matt and I discussed a lot of things and it wasn’t long before we started casting around for an idea for a joint project between our chapters. Matt’s son was in Afghanistan at that time (he is a soldier) and I suppose this influenced us to try and do something for American veterans. We launched our program: We would try and put a hunt together for a disabled veteran.

Matt identified a perfect candidate for the hunt. Richard Straub, then a youngster of 19, lost a leg during a tour of duty in Vietnam in 1968. Since then his life had been dedicated to the Disabled American Veterans organization and he ended up being elected as Michigan Veteran of the Year.

To cut a long story short, with the help of Rick Cassidy, another member of the Detroit Chapter, things were put in motion and on October 20^th, Richard, his wife Peggy and Tim Turner arrived in Namibia. Tim puts together professionally made hunt videos for a living and he came along as the official keeper of records.

The excitement was obvious in Richard and Peggy when they got off the plane. Also quite apparent was the tiredness after a long 16 hour flight, so I decided to book the entire party in at a local bed & breakfast I normally use for clients. Pension New Nouveaux caters especially for hunters and is a great place to relax in. We had a barbecue at my home that evening, discussing the hunt and all the things we were going to do. If the shooting went well, we would try to get in a day at Etosha National Park. Well fed and tired, I got everybody back to bed, warning them to sleep well and be ready early next morning.

The drive out to camp the next morning was uneventful. I got everybody settled in their rooms while my staff offloaded all our provisions. Plan was to spend some time checking the rifles on the shooting range and get Richard familiarized with the rifle he brought along.

Richard asked me to make sure he knew how to shoot and we concentrated for a time on rifle instruction. We talked a lot about the kind of shots he could expect, as well as shot placement on the animals he wanted to take. 

Somewhere during that time, Richard and I became fast friends. Maybe it was the fact that we both had a military background but, whatever it was, I gained a friend for life. He asked me to call him by his nickname, Hop (very appropriate when you see him get along on one leg!). Brothers for life, Hop.

By now it was too late to go hunting and we decided to settle for a quick game drive to familiarize everybody with the terrain. As luck would have it, we spotted a few Kudu. Hop was shaking with excitement and we couldn’t wait to get out hunting the next morning. 

We have a vehicle that is specially prepared for disabled hunters, with a swivel chair and shooting rest that enables the hunter to shoot in any direction off the truck. I had also prepared some natural blinds at a big waterhole and the plan was to move around for a while and, when the day got hot, to go to the blind and see what the bush would give us. The hunt included a Gemsbok and a Warthog, but Hop also wanted to try for a good Kudu. Tim, our photographer, was also in the market for a Kudu if time allowed.

Peggy earned her nickname early in the hunt.  Other than a slight hesitation when I warned her to “mind the snakes” when she needed to use the bush, she really stuck it out. Never a complaint, even when temperatures were hovering in the high nineties. We decided to call her the Trooper.

Throughout that morning in the blind we kept seeing game. Warthog and Kudu cows were everywhere. Around midday, things quieted down a little and we had lunch. Then two young Kudu bulls came strolling down to the water. I was concentrating on the Kudus when J P Brand (J P is one of our chapter members who helped me during the hunt and a PH himself) whispered “Hartebeest, big one!!” I looked up and there, about twenty yards behind the Kudus, was this really good Hartebeest bull. A quick whispered discussion, and Richard decided on the spot to add this animal to his list.

We quickly got into position for a shot. Hop was shaking like a leaf and I had to keep cautioning him to relax and not tense up. The rifle instruction paid off because, when the shot went, that Hartebeest dropped right in his tracks! 

The excitement in that blind reached fever pitch. Hop was hollering like they were cutting his leg off all over again. Trooper was in tears and J P and I was slapping anybody we could reach on the back. 

I quickly gathered up my rifle and moved up on the animal to make sure he was down for good. When I gestured to Hop and the Trooper to come over, Hop grabbed his crutches and started racing around the waterhole to get to his trophy. Trooper had to move it to catch up and slow Hop down. It was worth it – a perfectly placed 150 yard shot, right through the heart! (Later measurement showed the animal well up in the SCI record book). 

I have been hunting and guiding for years, but the excitement and gratitude in Hop’s eyes will remain with me for a long time. We all had to swallow a few times to keep back the tears.

Next on the agenda would be a Kudu. We used a different blind as the wind kept swirling around. Not long after we settled down in the blind, three excellent bulls appeared, unfortunately right in the area where they would be sure to smell us when they moved up to the water. Hop and I tried to get in position for a shot, but too late! The wind swirled and the Kudus took off. I could see that Hop was very disappointed, but assured him that they would be back. I even showed him the spot where they would reappear. Impressed Hop no end when all three of them stepped out in the precise spot I indicated!! (Don’t tell him but it was blind luck)

The shot was a bit further that the one on the Hartebeest (I estimated about 220 yards), but I was confident that Hop could take him. Hop steadied himself and pulled the trigger – the Kudu took off!! I had heard the bullet slap, though, and assured a distraught hunter that we would find the animal quickly. J P and I grabbed our rifles and set out to see if we could track the Kudu. Not far from where he was when Hop shot, we found the first blood. It was a little watery and my heart sank – a gut shot Kudu makes for hard work. We tracked down into the brush and I spotted more blood off to my left. Great excitement leapt in me when I glimpsed a shape through the bush – Hop’s Kudu was down and long dead. The shot had taken him behind the ribs and ranged forward through the engine room. He was a beaut!!

I walked back to the blind to fetch my hunter. When Hop spotted me coming, he shouted his query – I just pumped my fist in the air. I can still hear his screech of delight: “All right!!!”

We slowly took Hop on the long walk to reach his animal. The look on his face (and the tears in his eyes) when we finally reached the Kudu made my whole year worth while. Hop planted himself down next to his Kudu and couldn’t stop stroking him. A great trophy bull, again making SCI record book, not that that mattered all that much. This particular Kudu is going to live in all our memories for a long, long time.

After the photo session on the Kudu, and getting him off to the skinning shed, the day was still young and we decided to take a drive around to see if we could find a good Gemsbok. My specially built hunting chair was finally going to operate! 

Diana smiled on us that afternoon. We could not have been out in the bush much more than half an hour when we spotted a small herd of Gemsbok.

J P frantically pointed out of his window, off to our left. I glanced in that direction and immediately identified a very good female. Great horns on her!! Just as I was about to start getting Hop onto the animal, Tim (who by now has become invisible behind his cameras) grabbed me by the shoulder and pointed to my right.

We almost missed out on a perfect bull – if Tim hadn’t spotted him, we probably would have shot that female. I pointed Hop in the right direction and he did his “one shot” bit. Shot that Gemsbok right through his heart. The animal took off in a death gallop, smashed into a bush and fell over. Magnificent!

For the Warthog, I took the group off to a completely different waterhole. We all jumped in, hastily erected a new blind, and settled down.  

We were made to work for this one – we spent the whole day (it got hot!) in that blind, seeing only a couple of Kudu cows and a sow with some youngsters. We did see a Goshawk chase a panicked Guinea Fowl, which made it all worthwhile for me. 

Just as dusk started to fall (and I started getting looks from my hunter), a mature old boar came trotting down to the water as if the place belonged to him. Things moved quickly – Hop grabbed the rifle, the shot went off and the Warthog fell down!  

This was great – we had all of Hop’s animals in the bag and we were going to be able to spend a day in the Etosha National Park.

What a day that turned out to be! We saw them all – Elephant, Rhino, Lion, Giraffe and hundreds upon hundreds of plainsgame. Trooper was in seventh heaven. The lions were especially great.

J P spotted a big male in the bush and we stopped to take photos. Not long and a second male appeared and we got treated to a roaring contest! People spend days in that park and never see a lion – how lucky can you get?

After lunch in one of the rest camps in the park, we set off for some more viewing. Then we hit the long drive back to camp. Everybody was tired, but it could not have been a better day.

Last hunting day and I finally pried Tim loose from his cameras. He had been working hard, treating us every evening to a show of the day’s take on his laptop. Now it was his turn. 

We returned to our first blind at the waterhole and, bang on midday, this great big Kudu bull came walking out. J P and I scrambled to get the cameras rolling. Tim lined up and shot. The Kudu took off running! 

A long walk and much sweat later, J P went back to fetch the trackers. Tim and I continued on the tracks. Despite finding a lot of blood, we couldn’t seem to catch up to this Kudu. No wonder – when the trackers finally came up, they found Tim’s Kudu (dead as a doornail) not a hundred yards from where we last saw blood. We had walked right past him! 

This meant that every animal on that hunt was taken with one shot only – great!!

                    Myself, Thomas (Cook), Markus (Skinner) and J P.

                    Tim, Hop and Trooper, saying goodbye to the staff.

Next morning we all slept late. It was the last morning in camp, most of the packing was done and we were on our way back to Windhoek for a last evening together. Joe’s Beerhouse sponsored this meal for us and we had a great time. Joe’s is probably one of the best restaurants in the whole of Africa and we had a great evening. Food and drink was devoured in great quantities while we relived every moment of our hunt.

At the airport, the goodbyes were difficult. Tears flowed freely as Hop tried to explain to me how much he had enjoyed his time with us. Trooper was beyond words and I hugged her hard. I had to turn and leave quickly – it wouldn’t do for the great white hunter to be seen crying in public………..

When times are good, it is so easy to forget the price people pay to keep us free and safe. A policeman is a thug … until there’s a riot. A soldier is a Neanderthal …. until somebody tries to take away our freedom. A fireman is just another city employee …. until the house burns down. It felt good, real good, to give something back.

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