Signals From the Falklands: A Naval Anthology

By John Winton

A naval historian presents a collection of personal accounts from British naval servicemembers who contributed to victory in the Falklands.

Fearing that the achievements of Britain’s Navy in the Falklands War would go unrecognized, John Winton let it be known that he was compiling a book of personal, firsthand accounts on the subject. The response was overwhelming, and Signals from the Falklands represents only a fraction of the stories, letters, journal entries, and recorded interviews he received.

Here is a candid recounting of that brief but successful campaign from those who served in all ranks and trades with the Royal Navy and the Royal Fleet Auxiliary. Some of the contributors, like the aptly named Sam Salt will be familiar to many; others are not well known. All who served on board any ship which ‘went south’ in that strange nut epic endeavor in 1982 will be grateful to John Winton for this lasting tribute to their bravery, their sacrifice, and their abiding sense of humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Jun 26, 1995
• ISBN: 9781473818217

Book preview

LEAVING FOR THE SOUTH ATLANTIC

Friday 2 April, 1982

Easter leave has begun and the ship is alongside Pitch House Jetty in Portsmouth Naval Base at 47½ hours notice for sea. 801 Naval Air Squadron of Sea Harriers is disembarked at RNAS Yeovilton, and 820 Naval Air Squadron is also on leave, but their Sea King helicopters are still on board.

In the early hours of the morning the Duty Lieutenant Commander receives a signal ordering the ship to be brought to four hours’ notice for sea. At 0600 a general recall from leave is instituted. With remarkable assistance from the Portsmouth Dockyard telephone exchange over five hundred members of the ship’s company are contacted and told to report on board. 801 and 820 Squadrons commence their own recall procedures.

During the forenoon a signal is received instructing the ship to prepare for extended operations in the South Atlantic, to embark a full war outfit of ammunition and to store to capacity, making full use of additional stowages to increase endurance.

Amid Argentine reports that ‘Las Malvinas’ are now in their hands, a steady flood of manpower reports on board. Some of those arriving in the afternoon are surprised, and relieved, to find the ship still alongside after hearing Mr Winston Churchill MP announce on ‘The World at One’ that "HMS Invincible has sailed for the Falklands".

By midday all departments have laid their plans for storing and ammunitioning ship and the first stores are already being embarked with the aid of a large and enthusiastic stores party from HMS Nelson. The problem of deciding what stores will be needed for this extended period of operations has been greatly eased by the fact that demands have already been placed for a mini-deployment to the Mediterranean, planned for later that month, and lists for the major autumn deployment have already been drawn up. A good start is made on the storing programme by calling forward these demands as quickly as possible.

Despite having been at 47½ hours’ notice a basin trial of three engines is successfully completed during the afternoon.

Leave is granted from 2000 for locals. Saturday 3 April, 1982

They are few in number, but they have the right to live in peace, to choose their own way of life and to determine their own allegiance. The Prime Minister in the House of Commons Falklands debate.

Storing and ammunitioning continue apace. All hands with nothing more pressing to occupy them are to be seen in their overalls and No 8s assisting with the task of moving the mountain of stores from the jetty into the ship. The storing parties are a diverse mixture and include a large number of aircrew, the PMO and the Chaplain, as well as another large contingent from HMS Nelson. Inevitably fuelling, ammunitioning and embarkation of other hazardous items all go on at the same time.

Besides our usual range of stores we embark extra stocks of damage control and firefighting equipment, including a whole lorry load of shoring timber, and a much enlarged medical stores outfit which appears as if by magic from the Pharmacist at RNH Haslar.

The farther flung members of the ship’s company continue to arrive on board, some having found rather unusual solutions to the problem or returning as quickly as possible. Our Australian exchange officer heard the news while on holiday in Germany with his family. He drove straight back, only to be told to his, and our, great disappointment that both he and our USN exchange officer will not be allowed to come with us. Aircrew from 820 Squadron who were skiing in Europe find their evening’s aprés-ski replaced by aprés-dinner on the forward brow loading stores.

By midday the ship is at four hours’ notice to sail, if required, though, the news spreads that the rest of the fleet is taking a little longer to get ready. As a result there is likely to be a delay before we actually sail.

Mrs Thatcher announces in the House of Commons, during a special debate, that "HMS Invincible will lead a naval task group out of Portsmouth on Monday 5 April".

We learn that this rapid deployment is to be called Operation Corporate. In view of recent defence reviews this is generally considered to be a particularly apt title.

801 Squadron ground party embarks, but the Sea Harriers are delayed launching from Yeovilton, initially because the deck is foul due to an ammunition lighter alongside and later in the day by fog.

Our ammunition stocks are now vastly greater than our normal peacetime outfit and an assurance is sought from DG Ships that the magazine decks can bear the load. In addition we have a deck cargo of Sea Dart missiles to replenish the Type 42 destroyers who have sailed direct from Exercise Springtrain.

Once again overnight leave is granted from 2000 for those who have the energy.

Sunday 4 April 1982

The Sea Harriers of the newly enlarged 801 Squadron are embarked at 0940 to the detriment of those enjoying a quiet, sunny Palm Sunday morning in Portsmouth but to the delight of the passengers on the Gosport ferry who have a ringside seat.

At 1100 Holy Communion takes place on the Quarterdeck and five babies are baptised amidst the hustle and bustle of the continuing storing of the ship.

All the Wardroom trophies and silverware are returned to HMS Nelson for safe keeping except for a toast rack which was battered and bent when it was blown into the Wardroom piano of the previous HMS Invincible during the Battle of the Falkland Islands in 1914. Few believe we are going into another such battle, but all agree that it is an appropriate trophy to take with us.

During the forenoon the Commander in Chief Naval Home Command, Admiral Sir James Eberle GCB, visits the ship to wish us well. He undertakes to keep our families in the picture as best he can. They are very much in our thoughts and his promise is greatly appreciated.

The Warfare and Intelligence teams continue to make strenuous efforts to get as much background information as possible on the Argentine Navy.

Five journalists representing The Times, Telegraph, Guardian, Star and Sun, together with a Ministry of Defence Information Officer, are embarked to sail with us and report our progress.

HMS Centurion has been working flat out to make sure we have a full complement. A number of people who have been drafted elsewhere are recalled and a number of others are drafted to join us immediately.

The decision is taken that the ship will sail with an enhanced air group and as a result the aircrew and maintenance teams of both squadrons are substantially augmented to cater for those extra aircraft.

Amidst all this hectic progress Commander Pro vest joins to relieve Commander Rhodes as Executive Officer.

Monday 5 April 1982

Embarkation of ammunition completes just before 0300. 400 high priority stores signals have been sent in the last 72 hours and stores continue to come on board literally until the brow is removed.

Flag Officer, Third Flotilla, Rear Admiral Reffell, pays us a visit to wish us all good luck. He is the last person to leave the ship before we sail.

We slip at 1015 and proceed to sea with the ship’s company lining the flight and weather decks. Some of our aircraft are on deck; the remainder are in the hangar, out of sight, so as to disguise the total number we are carrying.

As we leave the Dockyard we become aware that many of the people who have worked so hard to get us on our way have turned out to see us off, but we are quite unprepared for the amazing scenes of patriotic fervour as we leave the harbour. There are thousands of people cramming every inch of sea wall and beach to give us a send off the like of which we have never seen before. It is certainly a highly emotional experience and one which none of us will ever forget. Our confidential time of departure must have been the year’s worst kept secret!

Once past Outer Spit buoy preparations for war begin in earnest when ‘Hands to Flying Stations’ is piped. It is to be another 75 days before Commander (Air) personally pipes ‘Hands fall out from Flying Stations’. The first Sea Harrier is launched just before noon and a total of 10 sorties are flown until poor weather precludes night flying. Some live bombs are dropped off the Isle of Wight, which somewhat shatters the local tranquillity.

820 Squadron commence flying at 1400 and maintain 2 aircraft airborne until after midnight. Last minute stores and additional aircrew are being flown aboard from the Royal Naval Air Stations at Portland and Culdrose and by evening the squadron is at its full war complement.

Efforts continue to record and stow the vast quantities of stores which have been embarked. Many items have been supplied without demand and without the usual paperwork. This task is to continue for the next ten days.

During the afternoon the Marine Engineering department hear a noise they recognize and don’t like, from the starboard astern coupling in the gearbox. We have changed a gearbox coupling recently, with full dockyard assistance and alongside the wall. This coupling is making the same noise and, although it is an astern coupling and will not affect our ability to go forward, at full speed if necessary, the decision is taken that it should be changed at sea by ship’s staff. The starboard shaft is locked and preliminary investigations begin to identify the work involved.

As we settle down to our first night at sea we reflect on the phenomenal support we have had in getting ready for sea. It has ranged from the police and port authorities grappling with recall problems, to the Armament Depots, Dockyard and stores staffs who worked non-stop to supply our requirements and support our preparations. A variety of firms sent their representatives to work all weekend with us and few naval shore establishments in Portsmouth had much of a weekend. Everywhere there was the same determined and unstinting effort to get us away as quickly and as well prepared as possible. Lastly but not least there were our families without whose quiet acceptance and understanding of the situation everything would have been ten times harder. We are immensely grateful to them all.

Tuesday 6 April 1982

Overnight the ship has been on passage to the Western Approaches and is now operating some 80 miles south west of Land’s End in company with HMS Hermes and RFA Olmeda.

Still within range of RNAS Culdrose, last minute items of stores continue to be embarked by the first of many hundreds of Helicopter Delivery Service flights, which are to become such a prominent feature of the operation.

The new gearbox coupling is flown to us by an RAF Chinook helicopter. These aircraft are a recent acquisition and the appearance of one attracts a great deal of interest, not least from the embarked journalists.

As usual after a few days alongside we carry out a major fire exercise and practise hands to emergency stations. This time, however, everyone puts rather more than the usual degree of urgency into these evolutions.

Due to poor weather the full flying programme cannot be completed but a number of Sea Harrier sorties are flown, including the first with live Sidewinder missiles. Lt ‘Soapy’ Watson of 801 Squadron achieves a personal ‘first’ when he lands his Sea Harrier on the deck of an aircraft carrier for the first time.

An incredible number of telegrams are now pouring in. Some are from our affiliated organizations, others are from local Mayors and Members of Parliament but many come from private individuals who want to declare their support and wish us well. We now fully appreciate the depth of national feeling as the Task Force sails for the South Atlantic.

From HMS Invincible The Falklands Deployment 2 April–17 September, 1982

The Type 21 frigate HMS Arrow (Commander P.J. Bootherstone RN) was taking part with other ships in Exercise Springtrain off Gibraltar when she was selected to go south, much to the surprise of her ship’s company:

LETTERS TO SUSIE

My dearest Susie,

You would think that twenty years in the Navy would have taught me not to tempt fate, but no, as we sailed from Gibraltar I was telling everybody that this was the start of my last fortnight at sea in the Grey Funnel Line, and now look at what has happened.

At the time of writing we are about a hundred miles south of the Canary Islands, and heading for Ascension Island, which we are due to reach next Saturday, (10 April). The big Task Force of warships that Maggie Thatcher has been telling the population about (known to us down here as the Heavy Mob) has not yet left the U.K. and our closer proximity to the trouble spot is obviously being kept as secret as possible. This is why we have been proceeding southwards in a very cautious manner, with all radars and radios switched off so as not to transmit our position, and our course kept well clear of the usual shipping lanes. This ploy has not been entirely successful as unidentified warships have been shadowing us on and off since yesterday morning.

I should explain that the us I have been writing about is not just the good ship Arrow, but it is still far short of an Armada. When we commenced our journey southwards our group consisted of five warships and two auxiliary ships; the next two days were spent on the task of replenishing the ship’s store-rooms from most of the other ships, before they turned about and headed for home. The spearhead of Britain’s naval might for the last two days has consisted of the Arrow and the type 42 guided missile destroyer Glasgow. The only other ships in sight are our shadowers, which like the poor are always with us.

The intention of the powers that be at the moment is for us to re-fuel at Ascension Island and then make a scouting trip down to the Falklands, which incidentally is a further week’s sailing away, so we should have the best part of a fortnight to go before we see any sign of an Argentinian.

We are not wasting the precious time between now and our arrival at the Falklands. The Glasgow and ourselves are now sailing under war conditions, and carrying out various exercises each day. We have actually got four live Seacat missiles on the launcher aft and four live Exocet missiles in front of the bridge, to say nothing of the high explosive shells ready in the magazine for the 4.5 inch gun.

Some things will always remain the same though. Two instances spring to mind straight away: 1) the first load of essential, war material that came across the jack-stay from the R.F.A. vessel consisted of detergent, deck scrubbers, gash bags and floor polish. 2) We have been at sea for under a week and we are already on bread, milk and tea rationing. So we can’t have a cuppa too often but we can polish the floors 24 hours a day. Personally I think that it is part of a master plan to make us fighting mad long before we get where we’re going.

There are a lot of very unhappy people on board at the moment, and for various reasons. Some are sad because they had holidays booked for the Easter leave period: one lad was getting married in a week’s time and our fire-eating Australian Principal Warfare Officer was fuming at getting turfed off (because we can’t take foreign nationals into a possible combat zone).

Once again I am being looked at with deep suspicion by my fellow mess-members, and mutterings about voodoo and witchcraft can be heard. The problem stems from the fact that in addition to tempting fate with my inane witterings about how few sea-going days I had left to do, someone has just realized that the only one in the chiefs’ mess who has not had his Easter leave arrangements disrupted, and has already arranged to have his Easter leave as late as the first week in June, is me!

Monday 5 April.

We have just been told that mail is going off of the ship at ten o’clock, and as it is ten to ten now I had better hurry up and finish this letter.

I have enclosed a list of telephone numbers of chiefs’ wives, under what is known as the link wife system: one wife can be informed of a juicy titbit of news by the powers that be. She then passes it on to two other wives, who in turn pass it on to two other wives. Fun aint it?

Please will you phone my mum and let her know what is happening as I have not had enough time to write to her yet, and I have no idea when the next opportunity to write will be. Must go now pet, take care of yourself, give my love to the boys. All my love, Arthur

Wednesday 7-4-82

Today we had a visit from the Admiral commanding our little fleet, and a right gung-ho, let’s get at ’em chaps type he turned out to be. I think that he would like to fight the battle of the River Plate all over again. He gave us a long lecture on the background of the dispute between Argentina and Britain, a lecture that lost some of its impact due to a couple of minor inaccuracies in his facts, such as his insistence on calling our adversaries Chileans. After his lecture he asked for any questions, and was asked about leave, mail, pay, local overseas allowance and when would we be going home. He then went and gave the same lecture to the junior ratings, his questions this time included:- is there any more beer being sent out and will we be getting medals for this.

With regard to the date for our return home, I’m afraid that the Admiral can only guess at a date the same way we all have been doing, the best guess that we can come up with is sometime in early June.

In a sense, the Antarctic patrol vessel HMS Endurance (Captain N J.Barker RN) could be said to have started the Falklands conflict. She provided the only highly visible (she was nicknamed the ‘Red Plum’) British naval presence in the south Atlantic, making regular flag-showing visits to Argentinian ports. It was very probably the announcement in 1981 of the decision to dispense with Endurance that helped to convince the Argentine military junta that the United Kingdom was no longer interested in the Falkland Islands:

ENDURANCE’S WAR

Although having never written before, I’ve felt that I would like to write about Endurance’s Falklands war myself; because of our relationship with the Falklands and also the Argentinians, the ship’s company had a closer emotional tie with the events of that year.

Endurance had spent her usual maintenance period in Mar-del-Plata. We were moored in the same basin as the Argentinian fast patrol vessel Isla Malvinas (the next time we saw this vessel she had been nicknamed the HMS Tiger Bay after being captured in the surrender of Stanley) and also the submarine Santa Fe, later to be crippled by Endurance’s helicopters. The ship’s football team played football against the Argentinian submarine base personnel while in Mar-del-Plata.

The ship also visited Bahia Bianca, the home port of the Belgrano. While there we were entertained by the crew of the Belgrano. A number of our mess went fishing with a group organized by a chief from Belgrano. They then laid on a barbecue for us and a number of Endurance crew were invited back to their homes to meet families and to have dinner with them. Some strong friendships were struck during that visit.

Our next visit to Argentina was to Ushuaia where our reception was completely different from that at other ports in the country. Ushuaia is a major military base (the most southerly town in the world) built to provide military backing to the Argentinian arguments with the Chileans over territorial rights in that area.

The reception we received in this town was one of harassment and rebuff. The harassment included taking groups of our sailors while ashore to the police station for questioning without reason. The rebuff came when none of the Argentinian senior officers accepted the Ambassador’s invitation to a cocktail party on board. This on its own just seemed like an insult but in the context of future events, it was I think a definite indication of a cooling of feelings towards the British more than two months before the actual invasion.

Although the aforementioned events in Argentina were not of direct importance to military events, I’m sure the friendships made on those visits affected the way we felt about future events. I also believe that our association with the crew of the Santa Fe helped us through what could have been a fatal attack when the submarine had the Endurance in its sights with armed torpedoes ready to fire, yet the Captain hesitated, thus allowing us at a later date to attack him.

The initial reaction of the Endurance ship’s company to a potential war situation was perhaps clouded because of the strongly supported fight to keep the Endurance by Captain Nicholas Barker, also by a number of VIPs such as Lord Shackleton. In fact, Captain N.Barker fought hard and long to keep the British influence in the Antarctic and South Atlantic a reality, instead of allowing it to fade into history as it seemed many people would have liked.

There were definitely strong indications that an invasion might take place prior to the invasion, as we later learnt, but the Captain was unable to pass this knowledge on to the ship’s company because of the security aspect of such information. So when he ordered the breaking out of ammunition to remove the scrap metal dealers from South Georgia I thought his long fight to get the ship and his deep commitment to the area had impaired his judgment. This not having all the information and trying to assess the situation led me to a lot of wrong conclusions.

Although half-expecting the invasion, when it finally did come it was a traumatic blow to the ship. A number of the ship’s company were left on the Islands as a survey party. We knew NP 8901, the Royal Marine detachment on the Islands, well. Many of the Islanders were personal friends and it felt almost like my home town had been invaded.

The ship was dispatched to see if we could help stave off the invasion but our limited speed meant we were unable to get there in time. We knew a number of ships of the Argentinian navy had been dispatched to dispose of Endurance and it was only the breakdown of their RFA that stopped them. We learnt later that they were only 25 miles away when they turned round. The ship’s company knew we had very little chance of coming through the whole affair if we did get involved. Our 2 × 20 mm guns were little defence against aircraft or Exocet-carrying ships.

Once we learnt that Stanley had fallen, we headed back towards South Georgia. We heard how the ship’s Royal Marines had been overwhelmed by the Argentines at King Edward Point, Grytviken, and I as well as the rest of the ship’s company felt very vulnerable. We were alone in the South Atlantic, with an enemy around bent on our destruction.

Although I had served 18 years in the Navy, I think this was the first time the full implications of being in a fighting force were brought home to me. I went to my cabin and wrote a goodbye letter to my wife and daughter and felt a deep regret that I hadn’t been able to say my goodbyes before entering the conflict. I pinned my goodbye letter in a prominent position on my writing desk so that it would be easily found if I did get killed. That letter was pinned to my writing desk for the next three months. I learnt afterwards that a large number of the crew wrote similar letters, although nothing was said at the time.

For the next three weeks we spent our nights hiding between icebergs, drifting with them so that we would look similar to them on a radar screen. I think that in this period it was brought home to me what war was to the individual. Whenever there was an aircraft warning we would close up at action stations. Apart from that the time was boring because we just sat waiting for something to happen. We were dirty because we stayed in our action working dress for days and weeks on end. Huddling became the chief pastime when alien aircraft were about. This consisted of rolling in a ball tucking your legs in and protecting your eyes, so that if hit you were dead but you wouldn’t be left blind or a cripple.

A large number of the ship’s company packed things like warm clothing, solid fuel burners and high-energy-content food into small parcels, along with knives, matches etc, so that if we were sunk but managed to get ashore we would have a chance of surviving the harsh sub-Antarctic conditions of South Georgia.

During this period of constantly moving from the packs of icebergs where we spent the nights to the rugged coastline which we hid in during the day, the submarine the Santa Fe observed us crossing Hound Bay. She had torpedoes loaded and primed and the ship in her sights, but for some reason did not fire. We heard that her Captain, having been taken prisoner to Ascension Island in the Antelope, said that he himself did not know why he refrained from sinking us. We believed it was because he knew the ship and had been on board that made him hesitate. He did say that because of his inaction he would probably not survive the conflict when he got back to Argentina.

On 5 April we sailed for Ascension Island and on the 12th we replenished with the Fort Austin. The Fort Austin gave us a marvellous welcome and I think it was only then that we realised the U.K. had been following events closely and we weren’t alone.

Two days later we were joined by Antrim and the task group. As they went past us they cheered our ship which totally stunned our ship’s company. There was us, a little ice patrol ship with crew dressed more or less as we liked, and a County Class cheering us from the ship’s side. As I say, we were stunned.

Letter of 13 June, 1983, by Fleet CPO Geoffrey Cox

‘YOU’VE GOT TO GET ON, JOHN’:

THE RESCUE OF THE SAS FROM

SOUTH GEORGIA

Dramatis Personae; Captain – Captain Brian Young RN; Commander – Commander Angus Sandford RN; Antrim Fit Cdr – Lt Cdr Ian Stanley, referred to as ‘Ian’ or ‘Boss’; Antrim Fit – Lt Chris Parry, referred to as ‘Chris’ or ‘Flobs’ (Flt Observer), Sub Lt Stewart Cooper, Second Pilot, Petty Officer Aircrewman David Fitzgerald, referred to as ‘Fitz’; Declan – Lt Declan Ward, Antrim NBCDO; Carlos – Lt Carlos Edwards, Antrim Deputy Supply Officer and Flight Deck Officer; Alasdair – Surgeon Lt Alasdair McLean, Antrim Medical Officer; SAS Major – Major Cedric Delves; Mike Tidd – Lt Mike Tidd RN, Ian Georgeson – Lt Ian Georgeson RN, Wessex V Pilots; and by no means least HUMPHREY – Our long-suffering Wessex HAS 3 (XP 142), referred to as the ‘Cab’, the ‘Helo’, ‘Humphrey’ or by its side number ‘406’.

Monday 19 April. We have finally arrived in the area off South Georgia, seemingly undetected since we saw the two Soviet ‘Bears’ (probably out of Luanda) on 12 April. The weather has been fairly mild, so we have been able to ‘cram on’ with our preparations to repossess the island. Declan, Carlos, Alasdair and myself have been doing fitness training every day now since we left Ascension and a few of the troops joined us as well. We’re convinced that they are SAS, though nobody dares ask the four officers who share the wardroom with us. They are all, seemingly, introverted characters and spend most of their time in the Admiral’s Day Cabin immersed in maps and photographs. I had an audience yesterday together with Ian, where we were asked a number of practical questions to do with flying over mountainous glaciated terrain. Apart from that one brief insight, everything is very secretive. There is a small group of senior officers on the ship who, together with the Captain, seem to have access to the really secret information – we have dubbed them the ‘Secret Squirrel Club’. The daily ‘uckers’ match continues between Declan and myself and Carlos and Alasdair. They beat us today which puts them 8–6 up in the series – curses!

On the operational front, 406 conducted a surface search sortie today, looking for enemy surface vessels and the incidence of icebergs. Needless to say we found very few bergs, but did not find large numbers of whales heading north – they must know we are coming!

Tuesday 20 April. This morning saw a big meeting between the Captain, various officers from the other ships, the SAS/SBS and the CO of ‘M’ Company (the bulk of whom are in Tidespring). Most of