Half a world, and half a lifetime away.
Discussion
26th April
RFA Blue Rover reached Ascension.
HMS Intrepid and RFA Bayleaf departed UK for Ascension.
The Santa Fe is moved from King Edward Point Jetty to the whaling station.
Argentines occupy Port Howard.
Thatcher declares time for diplomacy is running out. Read the transcript of the Commons proceedings.
Organisation of American States has its first meeting on the crisis. Mendes assumed this was the one body he could count on for support, and it was backed up by the 1947 Rio treaty in which the nations in the Americas agreed to support each other against military threat from outside the continent. Argentina didn't have a great track record of playing nicely in the OAS, however.
Mendes quickly figures out that he won't get the 2/3 majority required to take action against Britain, and instead asks for a resolution demanding the withdrawal of the British Task Force, with a warning that Britain seemed to be about to land on Argentinian territory.
He got help unexpectedly from Alexander Haig, who addressed the OAS and received cold silence in return. He told OAS, in effect, to butt out and keep clear of a Washington peace effort. Afterwards, an OAS official remarked "It was as if he could see the Nobel peace prize already within his grasp"
SD.
RFA Blue Rover reached Ascension.
HMS Intrepid and RFA Bayleaf departed UK for Ascension.
The Santa Fe is moved from King Edward Point Jetty to the whaling station.
Argentines occupy Port Howard.
Thatcher declares time for diplomacy is running out. Read the transcript of the Commons proceedings.
Organisation of American States has its first meeting on the crisis. Mendes assumed this was the one body he could count on for support, and it was backed up by the 1947 Rio treaty in which the nations in the Americas agreed to support each other against military threat from outside the continent. Argentina didn't have a great track record of playing nicely in the OAS, however.
Mendes quickly figures out that he won't get the 2/3 majority required to take action against Britain, and instead asks for a resolution demanding the withdrawal of the British Task Force, with a warning that Britain seemed to be about to land on Argentinian territory.
He got help unexpectedly from Alexander Haig, who addressed the OAS and received cold silence in return. He told OAS, in effect, to butt out and keep clear of a Washington peace effort. Afterwards, an OAS official remarked "It was as if he could see the Nobel peace prize already within his grasp"
SD.
27th April
Chiefs of staff present San Carlos landing proposals (Operation Sutton) to War cabinet.
Haig's 'final package' is sent to London and Buenos Aires. It suggests a phased joint-withdrawal, American/British/Argentine supervision arrangements, Argentine participation in the 'traditional local administration', and a long-term negotiation framework 'taking into account the wishes of both sides and the wishes of the inhabitants'. The interim period would be allowed to run up to 5 years.
London replies that it's not going to reply until it hears what Buenos Aries has to say. Buenos Aries has a think about it, but Admiral Anaya isn't feeling too kindly towards it, especially after having just lost South Georgia.
Adm. Sandy Woodward has an interview published in the media. and Her Majesty's Government is displeased. Woodward had given what he had thought was a motivational interview, emphasising the positive. Along the lines of "South Georgia was the appetizer, now my fleet is moving into position for the big match. I'd give 20:1 odds in our favour". He also added "But frankly, I'd rather be given a walkover.”
Unfortunately, this was interpreted as "Walkover Woodward will trounce the crap out of the Argentinians", and reported as such. Chief of Staff calls him up, and instructs him to do the interview again, except this time to be 'less jingoistic, more sober, peace-loving and quietly determined.'
Woodward inquires of the CGS as to if he's really expecting him to sound peace-loving when he's in a howling gale seven-thousand miles from home, commanding a battle group, preparing to fight a war most likely starting next Sunday. Answer: "Yes"
14 Stanley residents regarded by the Argentines as potential troublemakers are send to Fox Bay East. Fox Bay was occupied by around 900 men from 8th Motorised Infantry Regiment and elements of 9th Engineer Company. Several minefields were sowed around both settlements by the troops, and these still remain.
MV Norland, with 2 PARA embarked, and RFA Sir Bedivere sail from UK.
SD.
Chiefs of staff present San Carlos landing proposals (Operation Sutton) to War cabinet.
Haig's 'final package' is sent to London and Buenos Aires. It suggests a phased joint-withdrawal, American/British/Argentine supervision arrangements, Argentine participation in the 'traditional local administration', and a long-term negotiation framework 'taking into account the wishes of both sides and the wishes of the inhabitants'. The interim period would be allowed to run up to 5 years.
London replies that it's not going to reply until it hears what Buenos Aries has to say. Buenos Aries has a think about it, but Admiral Anaya isn't feeling too kindly towards it, especially after having just lost South Georgia.
Adm. Sandy Woodward has an interview published in the media. and Her Majesty's Government is displeased. Woodward had given what he had thought was a motivational interview, emphasising the positive. Along the lines of "South Georgia was the appetizer, now my fleet is moving into position for the big match. I'd give 20:1 odds in our favour". He also added "But frankly, I'd rather be given a walkover.”
Unfortunately, this was interpreted as "Walkover Woodward will trounce the crap out of the Argentinians", and reported as such. Chief of Staff calls him up, and instructs him to do the interview again, except this time to be 'less jingoistic, more sober, peace-loving and quietly determined.'
Woodward inquires of the CGS as to if he's really expecting him to sound peace-loving when he's in a howling gale seven-thousand miles from home, commanding a battle group, preparing to fight a war most likely starting next Sunday. Answer: "Yes"
14 Stanley residents regarded by the Argentines as potential troublemakers are send to Fox Bay East. Fox Bay was occupied by around 900 men from 8th Motorised Infantry Regiment and elements of 9th Engineer Company. Several minefields were sowed around both settlements by the troops, and these still remain.
MV Norland, with 2 PARA embarked, and RFA Sir Bedivere sail from UK.
SD.
From the FCO travel advice website.
https://www.gov.uk/foreign-travel-advice/falkland-...
Admittedly rather outdated, but there were about 25,000 mines (some say 15,000) mines that were laid. Some were actually laid from the back of C130.
SD.
https://www.gov.uk/foreign-travel-advice/falkland-...
Admittedly rather outdated, but there were about 25,000 mines (some say 15,000) mines that were laid. Some were actually laid from the back of C130.
SD.
28th April
OAS votes on a Falklands resolution. Overall, Nicaragua, Cuba, Panama, Peru and Venezuela supported Argentina, with Venezuela imposing a boycott on the purchase of Scotch Whisky by its government departments. Brazil and Mexico were more cautious. Both supported the Argentine claim to the islands, but weren't so keen on the precedent of armed force to settle territorial disputes. Colombia and Chile both were decidedly against the Argentine side. Chile mainly because they had ongoing disputes with Argentina anyway, and Colombia because they had their own dispute in progress with Venezuela, and did not want anything like a precedent set for such a method of resolution.
In the end, no mention was made of a British withdrawal, and called for both sides to honour UN resolution 502. Overall, a win for the UK. In the meantime, the Junta rejects Haig's final plan as "falling short of meeting Argentina's demands regarding recognition of sovereignty and the form of a provisional administration"
Antrim Group departs from South Georgia leaving HMS Endurance on patrol.
Sandy Woodward takes part in another interview. The fallout from this comes later.
SD.
OAS votes on a Falklands resolution. Overall, Nicaragua, Cuba, Panama, Peru and Venezuela supported Argentina, with Venezuela imposing a boycott on the purchase of Scotch Whisky by its government departments. Brazil and Mexico were more cautious. Both supported the Argentine claim to the islands, but weren't so keen on the precedent of armed force to settle territorial disputes. Colombia and Chile both were decidedly against the Argentine side. Chile mainly because they had ongoing disputes with Argentina anyway, and Colombia because they had their own dispute in progress with Venezuela, and did not want anything like a precedent set for such a method of resolution.
In the end, no mention was made of a British withdrawal, and called for both sides to honour UN resolution 502. Overall, a win for the UK. In the meantime, the Junta rejects Haig's final plan as "falling short of meeting Argentina's demands regarding recognition of sovereignty and the form of a provisional administration"
Antrim Group departs from South Georgia leaving HMS Endurance on patrol.
Sandy Woodward takes part in another interview. The fallout from this comes later.
SD.
yellowjack said:
Not an expert on the subject (not an EOD operator but served 7 years in an EOD regiment), I'd imagine the task of clearance will fall to 33/101 EOD Regiments, Royal Engineers. Or it could even be contracted out to one of a few private EOD companies.
RE EOD have a civilian-staffed Explosive Ordnance Clearance Group. Their usual job is range clearance operations in the UK. Often prior to planned sell-offs or hand-backs of land no longer required for military use. The trouble is, due to the nature of the threat, I think it will have to be serving soldiers used for mine clearance. But with the end of operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, there are a good number of EOD teams trained right now, and potentially available. 101 EOD were stepped up from being a reserve unit to fill a capability gap in the regular army. I imagine that at some point the EOD capability will be reduced in a budget cutting exercise, but probably not until tasks like the FI mine clearance work are finished with.
The actual task of clearing mines is horrible. Every available resource will be deployed, and mechanical (even remote) means will be used where possible. But the ground in the Falklands will in many cases make mechanical clearance impossible. Small areas will be cleared, and repeat visits over a number of years will be required before a couple of operations turn up zero finds. Only then will an area be declared clear, and even after that it's likely that warning signs and possibly fences will remain in place as it's entirely possible that mines will move to the surface that were not previously detected.
In 1944, Studland Bay in Dorset was the site of "Operation Smash", a run-up live fire exercise in the lead up to D-Day. Even now, over 70 years on, despite extensive clearance operations, and in recent years more responsive than proactive ops, live ammunition ranging from small arms up to air-dropped bombs via naval gunfire support munitions is still revealing itself through the shifting sands...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-dorset-367118...
https://www.facebook.com/NTStudlandBeach/videos/59...
https://twitter.com/i/web/status/83978039891789004...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mopg9iC2lU4
http://www.bournemouthecho.co.uk/news/8281741.500l...
https://www.virtual-swanage.co.uk/things-to-do/edu...
...it could yet be a long time before the Falkland Islands are truly free from mines laid during the war in 1982. Especially if the Argentinians used mines with mostly plastic bodies - they can be very difficult to detect and safely defeat. Not sure what mine technology was like back in 1982, but the British Army was still using the all-metal Mk7 Anti /Tank mine when our less savoury potential adversaries were developing nigh-on undetectable (by our then-current No.4C mine detectors) plastic mines.
Here's a photo...
Credit: IWM Prints - (you can buy a copy for £25) http://www.iwmprints.org.uk/image/743101/royal-nav...
Apart from the basic mistakes - the fact that it's WAY too big to be an anti-personnel mine, and he's not a Royal Marine, but a Royal Engineer - that also looks like a freshly dug hole, and it's far too shallow. But it gives you an idea of what you're dealing with. Now imagine that it's covered with dirt, possibly in soaking wet soil, and has been in the ground for 35 years, not 3½ months. The occupying forces mined a lot of open ground such as sports fields, to prevent use by helicopters in the assault phase. Quite a lot of mine clearance was carried out in the immediate follow-up to the war, but mainly in areas that needed to be made safe urgently to allow access by British Forces and the islanders...
Credit: IWM archives again... © Crown copyright. IWM (FKD 441) http://www.iwm.org.uk_www.iwm.org.uk/collections/s...
Again, apologies, OP, if I'm posting out of sequence. I was 11 when this was happening, and the war was a big part of why I joined the army just over five years later. It was VERY relevant for me because during basic training a good percentage of the training instructors were medal-wearing veterans of Op Corporate.
No apologies needed, a very interesting insight into the difficulties still faced. In fact, the more memories and stories as well as technical details are very welcome.RE EOD have a civilian-staffed Explosive Ordnance Clearance Group. Their usual job is range clearance operations in the UK. Often prior to planned sell-offs or hand-backs of land no longer required for military use. The trouble is, due to the nature of the threat, I think it will have to be serving soldiers used for mine clearance. But with the end of operations in Afghanistan and Iraq, there are a good number of EOD teams trained right now, and potentially available. 101 EOD were stepped up from being a reserve unit to fill a capability gap in the regular army. I imagine that at some point the EOD capability will be reduced in a budget cutting exercise, but probably not until tasks like the FI mine clearance work are finished with.
The actual task of clearing mines is horrible. Every available resource will be deployed, and mechanical (even remote) means will be used where possible. But the ground in the Falklands will in many cases make mechanical clearance impossible. Small areas will be cleared, and repeat visits over a number of years will be required before a couple of operations turn up zero finds. Only then will an area be declared clear, and even after that it's likely that warning signs and possibly fences will remain in place as it's entirely possible that mines will move to the surface that were not previously detected.
In 1944, Studland Bay in Dorset was the site of "Operation Smash", a run-up live fire exercise in the lead up to D-Day. Even now, over 70 years on, despite extensive clearance operations, and in recent years more responsive than proactive ops, live ammunition ranging from small arms up to air-dropped bombs via naval gunfire support munitions is still revealing itself through the shifting sands...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-dorset-367118...
https://www.facebook.com/NTStudlandBeach/videos/59...
https://twitter.com/i/web/status/83978039891789004...
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mopg9iC2lU4
http://www.bournemouthecho.co.uk/news/8281741.500l...
https://www.virtual-swanage.co.uk/things-to-do/edu...
...it could yet be a long time before the Falkland Islands are truly free from mines laid during the war in 1982. Especially if the Argentinians used mines with mostly plastic bodies - they can be very difficult to detect and safely defeat. Not sure what mine technology was like back in 1982, but the British Army was still using the all-metal Mk7 Anti /Tank mine when our less savoury potential adversaries were developing nigh-on undetectable (by our then-current No.4C mine detectors) plastic mines.
Here's a photo...
Credit: IWM Prints - (you can buy a copy for £25) http://www.iwmprints.org.uk/image/743101/royal-nav...
Apart from the basic mistakes - the fact that it's WAY too big to be an anti-personnel mine, and he's not a Royal Marine, but a Royal Engineer - that also looks like a freshly dug hole, and it's far too shallow. But it gives you an idea of what you're dealing with. Now imagine that it's covered with dirt, possibly in soaking wet soil, and has been in the ground for 35 years, not 3½ months. The occupying forces mined a lot of open ground such as sports fields, to prevent use by helicopters in the assault phase. Quite a lot of mine clearance was carried out in the immediate follow-up to the war, but mainly in areas that needed to be made safe urgently to allow access by British Forces and the islanders...
Credit: IWM archives again... © Crown copyright. IWM (FKD 441) http://www.iwm.org.uk_www.iwm.org.uk/collections/s...
Again, apologies, OP, if I'm posting out of sequence. I was 11 when this was happening, and the war was a big part of why I joined the army just over five years later. It was VERY relevant for me because during basic training a good percentage of the training instructors were medal-wearing veterans of Op Corporate.
SD.
29th April
Major General Moore flew to Ascension to brief Commodore Clapp and Brigadier Thompson.
HM Hospital Ship Uganda leaves Ascension.
HMS Argonaut, HMS Ardent, RFA Regent and RFA Plumleaf arrive at Ascension.
HMS Brilliant and Plymouth meets with Carrier Battle Group.
Task force spends the day refuelling and cross-decking supplies on the basis that this is probably their last chance before things get more active.
Argentine 707 shows up again, but is chased off 130 miles from the fleet.
Vulcan bombers arrive at Ascension Island.
Argentina rejects Haig proposals
Thatcher makes Commons Statement regarding the current situation.
Admiral Woodward receives another 'phone call from CGS about the contradictory and negative interview -
The interview had included something like:
[i]"Admiral, do you think this could be a long war?"
"It could last a few months, which might seem like a long time"
"Could a lot of people get killed?"
"Well, there is bloodshed in most wars, I doubt this will be an exception"[/i]
This was reported as "Woodward forecasts long and bloody war"
SD.
Major General Moore flew to Ascension to brief Commodore Clapp and Brigadier Thompson.
HM Hospital Ship Uganda leaves Ascension.
HMS Argonaut, HMS Ardent, RFA Regent and RFA Plumleaf arrive at Ascension.
HMS Brilliant and Plymouth meets with Carrier Battle Group.
Task force spends the day refuelling and cross-decking supplies on the basis that this is probably their last chance before things get more active.
Argentine 707 shows up again, but is chased off 130 miles from the fleet.
Vulcan bombers arrive at Ascension Island.
Argentina rejects Haig proposals
Thatcher makes Commons Statement regarding the current situation.
Admiral Woodward receives another 'phone call from CGS about the contradictory and negative interview -
The interview had included something like:
[i]"Admiral, do you think this could be a long war?"
"It could last a few months, which might seem like a long time"
"Could a lot of people get killed?"
"Well, there is bloodshed in most wars, I doubt this will be an exception"[/i]
This was reported as "Woodward forecasts long and bloody war"
SD.
30th April
From dawn, Maritime Exclusion Zone replaced by Total Exclusion Zone (TEZ), applicable to all ships and aircraft supporting the Argentine occupation of the Islands.
General Sir Jeremy Moore flies to Ascension for conference with Brigadier Thompson.
Task force arrives in exclusion zone.
Argentine fishing vessel Narwal is identified shadowing the Task Force. HMS Alacrity is sent to shoo her off, Narwal dutifully disappears. It had been misidentified the day before by a Sea Harrier as a Canadian research ship of the same name.
Reagan accedes that there is now nothing to be gained by refusing support for Britain, even though he is personally still unable to comprehend the importance of "that little ice-cold bunch of land down there." He announces sanctions against Argentina, and materiel aid for the UK, though the latter was more symbolic as the US had been transferring stocks to the UK at Ascension for some time.
In addition to the hardware for British use, US aircraft took over NATO roles then undertaken by the RAF, freeing them up for South Atlantic duty. Radio/Signals intelligence was also passed on, but no US forces would be directly involved.
They even offer a carrier to the British if they felt they needed one, but the time taken to train a British crew and re-qualify British pilots for carrier operations was too long, and so the offer was never really studied beyond an initial query.
The American announcement is greeted with rapturous welcome in the UK, and some shock in Argentina. Argentina was one of the US's better friends in Latin America, in a period where socialism was taking pretty decent hold down there. They didn't think the US would abandon one of its allies in Latin America, and would at best bring about a settlement without bloodshed, or at worst simply remain neutral. Remember that in 1956 the US was most definitely not supportive of the UK in their military expedition of the time (Suez). Given the friendliness between Argentina and USA, and also the fact that there were members of the Reagan administration who were known to be sympathetic to the Argentine cause, Anaya and Galtieri believed that outright support for the UK was unlikely.
SD.
From dawn, Maritime Exclusion Zone replaced by Total Exclusion Zone (TEZ), applicable to all ships and aircraft supporting the Argentine occupation of the Islands.
General Sir Jeremy Moore flies to Ascension for conference with Brigadier Thompson.
Task force arrives in exclusion zone.
Argentine fishing vessel Narwal is identified shadowing the Task Force. HMS Alacrity is sent to shoo her off, Narwal dutifully disappears. It had been misidentified the day before by a Sea Harrier as a Canadian research ship of the same name.
Reagan accedes that there is now nothing to be gained by refusing support for Britain, even though he is personally still unable to comprehend the importance of "that little ice-cold bunch of land down there." He announces sanctions against Argentina, and materiel aid for the UK, though the latter was more symbolic as the US had been transferring stocks to the UK at Ascension for some time.
In addition to the hardware for British use, US aircraft took over NATO roles then undertaken by the RAF, freeing them up for South Atlantic duty. Radio/Signals intelligence was also passed on, but no US forces would be directly involved.
They even offer a carrier to the British if they felt they needed one, but the time taken to train a British crew and re-qualify British pilots for carrier operations was too long, and so the offer was never really studied beyond an initial query.
The American announcement is greeted with rapturous welcome in the UK, and some shock in Argentina. Argentina was one of the US's better friends in Latin America, in a period where socialism was taking pretty decent hold down there. They didn't think the US would abandon one of its allies in Latin America, and would at best bring about a settlement without bloodshed, or at worst simply remain neutral. Remember that in 1956 the US was most definitely not supportive of the UK in their military expedition of the time (Suez). Given the friendliness between Argentina and USA, and also the fact that there were members of the Reagan administration who were known to be sympathetic to the Argentine cause, Anaya and Galtieri believed that outright support for the UK was unlikely.
SD.
1st May
114 inhabitants of Goose Green are imprisoned in the settlement's Recreation Club for the next 4 weeks.
14 Stanley residents previously sent to Fox Bay East are placed under house arrest.
At 01:30 The Task Force enters the Argentine Exclusion Zone, which is 60 miles further out than the British Exclusion Zone. It's Woodward's 50th birthday.
HMS Plymouth detached to reinforce South Georgia defences.
Frigates HMS Brilliant (Type 22) and Yarmouth (Type 21) are sent to the area just North of Stanley. Given the mines in Stanley region itself, it seemed logical that an Argentine submarine might be up there, and their instructions were to find and sink it. They never did, but ARA San Luis, a brand new German-built Type-209 boat was there, and did see them. A single torpedo was fired at Brilliant, but malfunctioned: San Luis was too new, and didn't have all the bugs worked out yet. Also, the predominantly conscript crew were brand new, and weren't entirely sure how to fix things. The Argentine submarine abandons its attack while it sorts itself out.
HMS Glamorgan, with its twin Mk6, and HMS Alacrity and Arrow with their single Mk8s are sent to bombard Stanley airfield from the sea. In typical flamboyant style, Glamorgan entered the gun line flying the largest battle ensigns she had. Woodward really wanted the threat of fast jets/bombers on that field removed. Fleet HQ in Northwood, was not pleased when they heard about the plans, given they were risking the loss of a guided missile destroyer, but by the time the recall order was initially given, the three-ship group was already en-route and it was rather pointless to call them back.
HMS Invincible launched the first Sea Harrier Combat Air Patrol (CAP) of the conflict.
HMS Hermes launched its 12 Sea Harriers for attacks on Port Stanley airfield and Goose Green.
Brian Hanrahan left us with arguably one of the most well known quotes in TV history.
At 13:25 Two Mirage III fighters show up, and attack two Sea Harriers patrolling above Stanley. Two radar-guided missiles are fired, and as the Sea Harriers evade, the Mirages turn around and leave - Quickly. The Mirage is a supersonic-capable fighter, Sea Harriers are firmly subsonic. The problem for Argentina, however, was that they were almost at the limit of their fuel, and they couldn't hang around to fight very long. As a result, they were more than willing to use their speed advantage to disengage.
16:00 or so. Four turbo-mentor (T-34C) propeller-driven trainers/light attack aircraft are sent to attack Brilliant and Yarmouth. Sea Harriers are sent to intercept, but the Turbo-Mentors jettison bombs and return to the safety of Stanley Airfield's air defences. The Sea Harriers were flown by Lt 'Soapy' Watson and Lt Cdr 'Sharky' Ward of 801 Naval Air Squadron flying from HMS Invincible, with one of the T-34Cs being damaged by cannon fire from Ward's aircraft.
These two Harriers are shortly afterwards engaged by two more Mirages, which also miss before turning and leaving.
18:30. Argentina makes a determined effort, involving nearly 40 aircraft launched.
Two Harriers are sent to intercept, where they are engaged by Argentine Mirages. After a missile exchange, one Mirage is destroyed, the other damaged. Captain Garcia Cuerva nurses his 'plane to Stanley, only to be shot down and killed by Argentine anti-air gunners.
Three Daggers, which are Israeli copies of Mirage V attack aircraft, attack the Glamorgan group. HMS Arrow and Glamorgan both receive minor damage from 30mm cannon, and Able Seaman Ian Britnell becomes the first battle casualty of Operation Corporate, wounded in the arm, chest and abdomen. He is operated on in HMS Hermes.
Alacrity's helicopter is slightly damaged. Two thousand-pound bombs barely miss both Glamorgan and Alacrity. The ships head back out to sea, this was the first and last daylight naval bombardment of the war. It was just too hazardous.
A formation of six Canberra B57 bombers, a British design built in the US under license, is intercepted. One is destroyed by a Harrier's sidewinder, one possibly damaged. The rest turn for home. The old slow bombers are not sent again.
Two more Sea Harriers are engaged by two more Mirages. Again, the Argentine missiles miss. A Sidewinder explodes the aircraft of Pimer Teniente Jose Ardiles, cousin to Spurs Midfielder Ossie Ardiles.
Operation Black Buck - the RAF attacks on the Falkland Isles.
Three Vulcans were deployed to Wideawake airfield on Ascension Island, of which two flew Black Buck raids against the Falkland Islands. Eleven Victor tankers, including a standby aircraft were required to refuel the Vulcans before and after their attacks on the Falklands. The attacking Vulcan was refuelled five times on the outward journey and once on the return journey.
These raids, although representing only a small part of the effort directed against the Argentines' on the Falklands, also graphically demonstrated RAF Strike Command's ability to strike the Argentine homeland if it had been necessary. These raids also forced the Argentine Air Force to withdraw their Mirage II fighters to stand defence over the mainland instead of engaging the Royal Navy and RAF Sea Harriers over the Falklands.
The Vulcans were captained by Squadron Leader Neil McDougall, Squadron Leader John Reeve and Flight Lieutenant Martin Withers.
Sqn Ldr Mel James, Commander of the Vulcan Engineering Detachment on Ascension Island, wrote in his diary about the build up to the Black Buck raids.
The first bombing of Port Stanley airfield took place at 4 A.M. on May 1, with only one of the 21 bombs scoring a direct hit on the runway. The British Vulcan pilots had to reach an acceptable level of skill in both aerial refuelling and bombing with only three weeks to train. They had evidently become proficient in refuelling but still lacked the skills necessary to bomb a target effectively at night.
The actual practical effect of the raid was pretty limited. With only two craters on the runway, it was easily repaired to a level that C-130s and Pucara ground attack aircraft could use, but fast jets still could not.
Not that the Argentinians were basing fast jets there anyway. The greater effect was psychological. Firstly, the bombs gave official notice to the Argentinians that Her Majesty's government was not best pleased with the Junta right now. Secondly, and possibly one of the largest indirect benefits of the war, it demonstrated that if they had a mind to, the British could bomb Argentina, or more specifically, Buenos Aires.
The Black Buck raids have been extensively covered and are essential study for many foreign forces. Here is a paper delivered by Major Walter F. DeHoust, United States Marine Corps to Marine Corps Command and Staff College, Marine Corps Development and Education Command Quantico, Virginia – which covers the air war in the campaign.
SD.
114 inhabitants of Goose Green are imprisoned in the settlement's Recreation Club for the next 4 weeks.
14 Stanley residents previously sent to Fox Bay East are placed under house arrest.
At 01:30 The Task Force enters the Argentine Exclusion Zone, which is 60 miles further out than the British Exclusion Zone. It's Woodward's 50th birthday.
HMS Plymouth detached to reinforce South Georgia defences.
Frigates HMS Brilliant (Type 22) and Yarmouth (Type 21) are sent to the area just North of Stanley. Given the mines in Stanley region itself, it seemed logical that an Argentine submarine might be up there, and their instructions were to find and sink it. They never did, but ARA San Luis, a brand new German-built Type-209 boat was there, and did see them. A single torpedo was fired at Brilliant, but malfunctioned: San Luis was too new, and didn't have all the bugs worked out yet. Also, the predominantly conscript crew were brand new, and weren't entirely sure how to fix things. The Argentine submarine abandons its attack while it sorts itself out.
HMS Glamorgan, with its twin Mk6, and HMS Alacrity and Arrow with their single Mk8s are sent to bombard Stanley airfield from the sea. In typical flamboyant style, Glamorgan entered the gun line flying the largest battle ensigns she had. Woodward really wanted the threat of fast jets/bombers on that field removed. Fleet HQ in Northwood, was not pleased when they heard about the plans, given they were risking the loss of a guided missile destroyer, but by the time the recall order was initially given, the three-ship group was already en-route and it was rather pointless to call them back.
HMS Invincible launched the first Sea Harrier Combat Air Patrol (CAP) of the conflict.
HMS Hermes launched its 12 Sea Harriers for attacks on Port Stanley airfield and Goose Green.
Brian Hanrahan left us with arguably one of the most well known quotes in TV history.
At 13:25 Two Mirage III fighters show up, and attack two Sea Harriers patrolling above Stanley. Two radar-guided missiles are fired, and as the Sea Harriers evade, the Mirages turn around and leave - Quickly. The Mirage is a supersonic-capable fighter, Sea Harriers are firmly subsonic. The problem for Argentina, however, was that they were almost at the limit of their fuel, and they couldn't hang around to fight very long. As a result, they were more than willing to use their speed advantage to disengage.
16:00 or so. Four turbo-mentor (T-34C) propeller-driven trainers/light attack aircraft are sent to attack Brilliant and Yarmouth. Sea Harriers are sent to intercept, but the Turbo-Mentors jettison bombs and return to the safety of Stanley Airfield's air defences. The Sea Harriers were flown by Lt 'Soapy' Watson and Lt Cdr 'Sharky' Ward of 801 Naval Air Squadron flying from HMS Invincible, with one of the T-34Cs being damaged by cannon fire from Ward's aircraft.
These two Harriers are shortly afterwards engaged by two more Mirages, which also miss before turning and leaving.
18:30. Argentina makes a determined effort, involving nearly 40 aircraft launched.
Two Harriers are sent to intercept, where they are engaged by Argentine Mirages. After a missile exchange, one Mirage is destroyed, the other damaged. Captain Garcia Cuerva nurses his 'plane to Stanley, only to be shot down and killed by Argentine anti-air gunners.
Three Daggers, which are Israeli copies of Mirage V attack aircraft, attack the Glamorgan group. HMS Arrow and Glamorgan both receive minor damage from 30mm cannon, and Able Seaman Ian Britnell becomes the first battle casualty of Operation Corporate, wounded in the arm, chest and abdomen. He is operated on in HMS Hermes.
Alacrity's helicopter is slightly damaged. Two thousand-pound bombs barely miss both Glamorgan and Alacrity. The ships head back out to sea, this was the first and last daylight naval bombardment of the war. It was just too hazardous.
A formation of six Canberra B57 bombers, a British design built in the US under license, is intercepted. One is destroyed by a Harrier's sidewinder, one possibly damaged. The rest turn for home. The old slow bombers are not sent again.
Two more Sea Harriers are engaged by two more Mirages. Again, the Argentine missiles miss. A Sidewinder explodes the aircraft of Pimer Teniente Jose Ardiles, cousin to Spurs Midfielder Ossie Ardiles.
Operation Black Buck - the RAF attacks on the Falkland Isles.
Three Vulcans were deployed to Wideawake airfield on Ascension Island, of which two flew Black Buck raids against the Falkland Islands. Eleven Victor tankers, including a standby aircraft were required to refuel the Vulcans before and after their attacks on the Falklands. The attacking Vulcan was refuelled five times on the outward journey and once on the return journey.
These raids, although representing only a small part of the effort directed against the Argentines' on the Falklands, also graphically demonstrated RAF Strike Command's ability to strike the Argentine homeland if it had been necessary. These raids also forced the Argentine Air Force to withdraw their Mirage II fighters to stand defence over the mainland instead of engaging the Royal Navy and RAF Sea Harriers over the Falklands.
The Vulcans were captained by Squadron Leader Neil McDougall, Squadron Leader John Reeve and Flight Lieutenant Martin Withers.
Sqn Ldr Mel James, Commander of the Vulcan Engineering Detachment on Ascension Island, wrote in his diary about the build up to the Black Buck raids.
Sqn Ldr Mel James said:
598 turned round on pan and refuelled to 90%. Bowsers a problem particularly due to lack of adequate bulk facility. Aircraft states to be passed to OC Eng Wg nightly for simplified Opstat signal, namely tail number, serviceability state, time to recovery, hours to next servicing. At approx 1300 hours, 6 x Sea Harrier in pale blue scheme with 809 Sqn badges arrived. Tanker trail from Yeovilton to Banjul, Gambia (6 hrs), night stop, then Banjul to ASI (3 hrs 15 mins). They passed over the fleet on arrival to announce their presence. At 1445 hours XH672 landed (Sqn Ldr Milligan) in front of Martin - XH672 had stayed with Martin throughout the whole trip. At about 1452 Martin landed (no victory roll!). Quite a welcoming party for him. Crew whisked off for Int debrief followed by Eng debrief. Defects: No2 Frequency Changer, possible probe leak (no leaks apparent and probe test 'S'). 18146 no run up. (Fledermaus radar threat picked up, MK10 pod switched on and jammed the X-band signal!!!) Night off!!
Black Buck 1 was intended to be a two bomber mission; however, the primary aircraft was forced to abort and the reserve completed the mission. The Vulcan carried 21, one thousand pound iron bombs and flew a high, low, high profile, proceeding to the area at 25,000 feet, dropping to 250 feet to avoid Argentine radar and then climbing to 10,000 feet for bomb jettison. The first bombing of Port Stanley airfield took place at 4 A.M. on May 1, with only one of the 21 bombs scoring a direct hit on the runway. The British Vulcan pilots had to reach an acceptable level of skill in both aerial refuelling and bombing with only three weeks to train. They had evidently become proficient in refuelling but still lacked the skills necessary to bomb a target effectively at night.
The actual practical effect of the raid was pretty limited. With only two craters on the runway, it was easily repaired to a level that C-130s and Pucara ground attack aircraft could use, but fast jets still could not.
Not that the Argentinians were basing fast jets there anyway. The greater effect was psychological. Firstly, the bombs gave official notice to the Argentinians that Her Majesty's government was not best pleased with the Junta right now. Secondly, and possibly one of the largest indirect benefits of the war, it demonstrated that if they had a mind to, the British could bomb Argentina, or more specifically, Buenos Aires.
The Black Buck raids have been extensively covered and are essential study for many foreign forces. Here is a paper delivered by Major Walter F. DeHoust, United States Marine Corps to Marine Corps Command and Staff College, Marine Corps Development and Education Command Quantico, Virginia – which covers the air war in the campaign.
SD.
2nd May
UN and Peru both try to initiate peace talks.
Pym meets UN Secretary General Perez de Cuellar in New York.
Peruvian President Belaunde Terry presents a peace proposal to Galtieri who gives preliminary acceptance with some modifications;
Argentine Fleet Commander Contralmirante JJ Lombardo sets his countermeasures in motion. He creates four task groups to deliver a succession of blows from separate directions.
Carrier Battle Group rejoined by the Glamorgan group, HMS Brilliant[i] and [i]Yarmouth.
HMS Conqueror tracks the movements of the Argentine cruiser General Belgrano.
The three Type 42s were stationed thirty miles up-threat as a picket line.
HMS Glamorgan, Yarmouth, Alacrity and Arrow formed an anti-aircraft and anti-submarine screen protecting the main body of the two carriers and the RFAs Olmeda and Resource, with the Type 22s goalkeeping for the carriers.
CAP sections were flown before dawn.
HMS Plymouth recalled to screen the Carrier Battle Group.
RFA Fort Austin approached the TEZ, HMS Yarmouth was despatched to shepherd her.
By mid-afternoon the Argentine navy's plan had been thwarted by a lack of wind, the Argentine Skyhawks needed at least 25knots of natural wind to allow take off.
Argentine cruiser General Belgrano sunk by torpedoes fired from HMS Conqueror.
BAS Survey team and two photographers left in HMS Antrim and RFA Tidespring for Ascension.
Russian spy trawler sighted off Ascension.
SD.
UN and Peru both try to initiate peace talks.
Pym meets UN Secretary General Perez de Cuellar in New York.
Peruvian President Belaunde Terry presents a peace proposal to Galtieri who gives preliminary acceptance with some modifications;
Argentine Fleet Commander Contralmirante JJ Lombardo sets his countermeasures in motion. He creates four task groups to deliver a succession of blows from separate directions.
Carrier Battle Group rejoined by the Glamorgan group, HMS Brilliant[i] and [i]Yarmouth.
HMS Conqueror tracks the movements of the Argentine cruiser General Belgrano.
The three Type 42s were stationed thirty miles up-threat as a picket line.
HMS Glamorgan, Yarmouth, Alacrity and Arrow formed an anti-aircraft and anti-submarine screen protecting the main body of the two carriers and the RFAs Olmeda and Resource, with the Type 22s goalkeeping for the carriers.
CAP sections were flown before dawn.
HMS Plymouth recalled to screen the Carrier Battle Group.
RFA Fort Austin approached the TEZ, HMS Yarmouth was despatched to shepherd her.
By mid-afternoon the Argentine navy's plan had been thwarted by a lack of wind, the Argentine Skyhawks needed at least 25knots of natural wind to allow take off.
Argentine cruiser General Belgrano sunk by torpedoes fired from HMS Conqueror.
BAS Survey team and two photographers left in HMS Antrim and RFA Tidespring for Ascension.
Russian spy trawler sighted off Ascension.
SD.
The sinking of ARA General Belgrano
She was built as USS Phoenix (CL-46), the sixth of the Brooklyn-class light cruisers, in New Jersey by the New York Shipbuilding Corporation starting in 1935, and launched in March 1938. She survived the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, and was decommissioned from the US Navy (USN) in July 1946. USS Phoenix was sold, with another of her class (USS Boise renamed ARA [/i]Nueve de Julio[/i]), to Argentina in October 1951, for $7.8 million. She was renamed 17 de Octubre after an important date for the political party of the then president Juan Perón. Perón was overthrown in 1955, and in 1956 the vessel was renamed General Belgrano (C-4) after General Manuel Belgrano, who had fought for Argentine independence in 1816.
In the early phase of the 1982 Falklands War, much of the Argentine navy had avoided any conflict.
The General Belgrano had left Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego on April 26, 1982, with two destroyers, the ARA Piedra Buena (D-29) and the Bouchard (D-26) (both also ex-USN vessels), as Task Group 79.3.
On the 29th they were patrolling the Burdwood Bank, south of the islands. On the 30th she was detected by the nuclear-powered hunter-killer submarine HMS Conqueror. The submarine approached over the following day. Although outside the British-declared Total Exclusion Zone of 370 km (200 nautical miles) radius from the islands, the British decided that the group was a threat.
After consultation at Cabinet level, the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, agreed that Commander Chris Wreford-Brown should attack the group. According to the Argentine government , Belgrano’s position was 55 24 S, 61 32 W.
At 15:57 on May 2, Conqueror fired three conventional Mk 8 mod 4 torpedoes, each with an 800 lb (363 kg) Torpex warhead, two of which hit the General Belgrano. The Conqueror was also equipped with the newer Mark 24 Tigerfish homing torpedo, but there were doubts about its reliability. The Mk 8 dated back to the 1920s and was not a homing design. One of the torpedoes struck between 10 and 15 metres back from the bow, outside the area protected by either the ship's side armour or the internal anti-torpedo bulge. The effect of this was to blow off the bow of the ship but the internal bulkheads held and the forward powder magazine for the 40 mm gun did not detonate. There was nobody in that part of the ship at the time of the explosion. The second torpedo struck about three-quarters of the way along the ship, just outside the rear limit of the side armour plating. The torpedo punched through the side of the ship before exploding in the after machine room. The explosion tore upward through two messes and a relaxation area called "the Soda Fountain" and finally ripped a twenty metre long hole in the main deck.
Later reports put the number of deaths in the area around the explosion at 275 men. There was no fire after the explosion but the ship rapidly filled with smoke. The explosion also damaged the Belgrano's electrical power system, preventing her from putting out a radio distress call. Though the forward bulkheads held, water was rushing in through the hole created by the torpedo and could not be pumped out because of the electrical power failure. The ship began to list to port and to sink towards the bow.
Twenty minutes after the attack at 16:24 Captain Bonzo ordered the crew to abandon ship. Inflatable life rafts were deployed and the evacuation began without panic.
The two escort ships were unaware of what was happening to the Belgrano as they were out of touch with her in the gloom and had not seen the distress rockets or lamp signals. Adding to the confusion, the crew of the ARA Bouchard felt an impact that was possibly the third torpedo striking at the end of its run (an examination of the ship later showed an impact mark consistent with a torpedo). The two ships continued on their course westward and began dropping depth charges. By the time the ships realised that something had happened to the Belgrano it was already dark and the weather had worsened, scattering the life rafts. Argentine and Chilean ships rescued 770 men in all from May 3 to May 5. In total 323 were killed in the attack, 321 members of the crew and two civilians who were on board at the time.
View the Board of Enquiry report on the sinking of the ARA General Belgrano.
Read an extract from Margaret Thatcher's memoirs regarding this incident.
The early reports gave us one of the most famous newspaper headlines - "Gotcha!" This was swiftly changed to "Did 1200 Argies Drown?" - the first editions were already out.
SD.
She was built as USS Phoenix (CL-46), the sixth of the Brooklyn-class light cruisers, in New Jersey by the New York Shipbuilding Corporation starting in 1935, and launched in March 1938. She survived the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1941, and was decommissioned from the US Navy (USN) in July 1946. USS Phoenix was sold, with another of her class (USS Boise renamed ARA [/i]Nueve de Julio[/i]), to Argentina in October 1951, for $7.8 million. She was renamed 17 de Octubre after an important date for the political party of the then president Juan Perón. Perón was overthrown in 1955, and in 1956 the vessel was renamed General Belgrano (C-4) after General Manuel Belgrano, who had fought for Argentine independence in 1816.
In the early phase of the 1982 Falklands War, much of the Argentine navy had avoided any conflict.
The General Belgrano had left Ushuaia in Tierra del Fuego on April 26, 1982, with two destroyers, the ARA Piedra Buena (D-29) and the Bouchard (D-26) (both also ex-USN vessels), as Task Group 79.3.
On the 29th they were patrolling the Burdwood Bank, south of the islands. On the 30th she was detected by the nuclear-powered hunter-killer submarine HMS Conqueror. The submarine approached over the following day. Although outside the British-declared Total Exclusion Zone of 370 km (200 nautical miles) radius from the islands, the British decided that the group was a threat.
After consultation at Cabinet level, the Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, agreed that Commander Chris Wreford-Brown should attack the group. According to the Argentine government , Belgrano’s position was 55 24 S, 61 32 W.
At 15:57 on May 2, Conqueror fired three conventional Mk 8 mod 4 torpedoes, each with an 800 lb (363 kg) Torpex warhead, two of which hit the General Belgrano. The Conqueror was also equipped with the newer Mark 24 Tigerfish homing torpedo, but there were doubts about its reliability. The Mk 8 dated back to the 1920s and was not a homing design. One of the torpedoes struck between 10 and 15 metres back from the bow, outside the area protected by either the ship's side armour or the internal anti-torpedo bulge. The effect of this was to blow off the bow of the ship but the internal bulkheads held and the forward powder magazine for the 40 mm gun did not detonate. There was nobody in that part of the ship at the time of the explosion. The second torpedo struck about three-quarters of the way along the ship, just outside the rear limit of the side armour plating. The torpedo punched through the side of the ship before exploding in the after machine room. The explosion tore upward through two messes and a relaxation area called "the Soda Fountain" and finally ripped a twenty metre long hole in the main deck.
Later reports put the number of deaths in the area around the explosion at 275 men. There was no fire after the explosion but the ship rapidly filled with smoke. The explosion also damaged the Belgrano's electrical power system, preventing her from putting out a radio distress call. Though the forward bulkheads held, water was rushing in through the hole created by the torpedo and could not be pumped out because of the electrical power failure. The ship began to list to port and to sink towards the bow.
Twenty minutes after the attack at 16:24 Captain Bonzo ordered the crew to abandon ship. Inflatable life rafts were deployed and the evacuation began without panic.
The two escort ships were unaware of what was happening to the Belgrano as they were out of touch with her in the gloom and had not seen the distress rockets or lamp signals. Adding to the confusion, the crew of the ARA Bouchard felt an impact that was possibly the third torpedo striking at the end of its run (an examination of the ship later showed an impact mark consistent with a torpedo). The two ships continued on their course westward and began dropping depth charges. By the time the ships realised that something had happened to the Belgrano it was already dark and the weather had worsened, scattering the life rafts. Argentine and Chilean ships rescued 770 men in all from May 3 to May 5. In total 323 were killed in the attack, 321 members of the crew and two civilians who were on board at the time.
View the Board of Enquiry report on the sinking of the ARA General Belgrano.
Read an extract from Margaret Thatcher's memoirs regarding this incident.
The early reports gave us one of the most famous newspaper headlines - "Gotcha!" This was swiftly changed to "Did 1200 Argies Drown?" - the first editions were already out.
SD.
Here is the recollections of a Belgrano survivor.
A Survivor's Story.
My name is Marcelo Pozzo. I was a Class ’62 conscript. My initial task after instruction was as “chafa”, just general seamanship. In February 1982 I was sent to Machinery Division, Damage Control Station, acting as quartermaster’s assistant in peaceful times. While we were heading south I was on watch at the main alarm switchboard control station, but when clearing for action my duties were as stretcher-bearer/fireman in a damage control party.
WE WERE TORPEDOED
I’ll tell you about my experience. It was May 2, 1982. At 1600 I left my watch at the Damage Control Station in the heart of the ship. I had to be again on duty at 0000, so I decided to lie down and take a nap until dinnertime. In the very moment that I closed my eyes an unseen hammer-blow knocked me against the upper bunk. When I fell down a heat wave engulfed me, it felt as if the door of a huge blazing oven had suddenly opened. I know I yelled. In a matter of seconds my whole life run before my eyes, like in a movie. The moment passed, I stood up and heard cries and a very particular kind of silence. I realized then that the ship was silent, one gets so used to the humming of the machinery during navigation, it seems as if the boat is alive. Now it wasn’t.
I emerged from a hatchway and saw that there were people coming up from the lower decks, almost calmly. I didn’t understand why everybody was encouraging me to go out, giving me way. So I went on deck. I thought I was going to see everything in shambles but it wasn’t so, things seemed practically in order. When I turned I saw a friend of mine coming out from the same hatchway I had just passed through. He looked bruised and burnt. I asked him what had happened and he blurted out, “We were torpedoed, you asshole!” I looked at the floor and noticed that there was a pool of blood at my feet. “Gee, somebody got hurt”, I said to myself. Then I looked better: I was the one hurt. I had walked on my bare feet over broken glass. There was no trace of the socks I was wearing when I was laying on my bunk, what remained was just a torn piece of elastic. The skin in my legs was thoroughly lacerated from the knees down. My right fore-arm was covered with burns up to the hand and I had an ugly looking blister from the wrist to the little finger. I didn’t feel any pain, though – partly because of the stinging cold, partly (they told me later) because of the shock damp.
You know, it was odd. The controlled way everybody behaved, I mean. The officers voiced their commands, since power had failed and the speakers were useless. The men obeyed. Damage Control parties were assessing the wreckage, shoring up bulkheads and doing their best to bring the vessel under control. The medics took care of casualties, and there were people entering and taking out on deck the wounded that had remained trapped inside, notwithstanding the heavy clouds of smoke coming from several burning fires. Everybody was coldly doing his chores with unbelievable self control. When they called for Damage Control hands I recalled my duties and went to my station, but an officer saw me and packed me off to Sick Bay.
There are many things that I have learned since. I know now that every individual reacts differently in front of the same situation, but it is of the essence to keep a clear mind, to avoid getting flustered and to assign the right priorities. On the other hand, drills are important. Nobody thinks that his ship can sink, but has to know what to do if it happens. You’ve got to be prepared, exercising your brain in your moments of leisure about how would you behave if – or at least, bearing in mind and even memorizing where is every survival element on board, commenting it with the rest of your companions. I know, I know, it seems so silly, but it can happen to you. As my grandpa used to say, “Never say never...”
ABANDON SHIP!
Where was I? Yes, going to Sick Bay. While making my way I saw the medics carrying people out (there were two that had just undergone appendectomy) towards the next abandon ship station. They told me to do the same if I could walk by myself. I could indeed, my only fear (for I was barefoot) was to hurt my feet further with some splinters from the deck timber. So I proceeded to my assigned life raft muster station, which was starboard. My raft, # 63, was “hanging” from # 5 gun-turret astern. I was then halfway the vessel, so I started to walk laboriously astern. Going along I saw my mates of Damage Control trying to bring to life some portable drainage pumps. I came across a conscript loaded with a mountain of poncho-like covers, used by men on open deck watch as protection from the intense cold. He offered me one that I gratefully accepted. How commendable: the ship was sinking, and a guy had the sensible idea of distributing protective clothing among those who were unprepared to face the climate – as I was. You get to really know people only at moments like this.
Well, I put on my poncho and kept on walking astern. The General Belgrano was 182 meters long, so everything was far away. When I reached my station I found out that the life raft # 63 was no longer in its berth, it had probably gone overboard when the ship was hit. Other crew members assigned to the lost raft were as worried as I was, so we asked permission from the Officer in Charge to board the neighboring raft which had just been launched. In that moment we heard the repeated command of “Abandon Ship!” It was a frightful order.
The list to port was rather pronounced, it wasn’t easy to stand straight on deck. I looked around and saw several images that still remain in my memory: 1) there were several rafts already launched on the sea, 2) the portboard was touching the water, and crew members reached the rafts by doing just a short jump, 3) there were people badly burned, they looked black, a dreadful sight, 4) some tactical divers were setting up a motor-driven rubber dinghy, 5) the Second Commanding Officer was standing on the bridge and shouting the order to abandon ship using his hands horn-like, 6) actions were performed in an orderly fashion.
The Petty Officer in charge of the newly found raft shook me out of my contemplative surrealistic environment bringing me back to reality, and told me that since I was injured I was going into the raft first. The matter was far from easy. The ship listed to port and we were starboard. Somebody secured a rope and I started to descend, barefoot, hanging Batman-like until I could step on a bull’s-eye. The other guys coming down after me were urging me to jump. The raft was rearing and plunging upon 15 m high waves, so I calculated the trajectory, committed my life to God and jumped. I was lucky, I fell upon the raft’s roof and sprang immediately inside; then I huddled myself up and heard my mates falling down one by one into the raft. Some of them failed the target however, and fell screaming into the icy sea. We were able to pick up just two of them, the other three died after a few minutes of being suddenly plunged into the glacially cold water, we could see them afloat in their lifebelts – lifebelts, what an irony, their life was gone. The oil in the water made quite difficult to grasp anything, everything was so slippery. In addition the raft was almost round, so managing her to get near the men was terribly difficult.
When nobody else seemed to be on deck we decided to cut the anchor rope. The vessel was by then almost totally leaning to one side, her port rails dipping under the surface of the sea. We could perfectly see the hull bottom, the axis of one of the propeller screws, the chalky incrustations. Since the port to access the raft was rather small I slipped inside and left the others to man the oars to pull us away. When we were just five meters away from the hull everybody started to yell, “She’s sinking!” There followed a deep silence. We were all thinking the same: now the rushing vortex of water is going to suck us down. A corporal beside me embraced me in tears, I was also crying when I returned the embrace. Once again I saw in rapid sequence sundry images of my life, and I felt a strange sensation, as when you are observing a scene from above. Perhaps I thought that I was going to die. I reacted when I heard my mates shouts, “long live our country!”, “long live the Belgrano!”
We started to pray, all of us. God heard us, because suddenly the tactical divers were among the rafts using their motorized rubber dinghy to separate one from the other, thus allowing more freedom of movement. (Another commendable behavior, wasn’t it?). They succeeded in removing us to a certain distance, but all the same we remained very near the place where our ship had sunk. From the bottom of the sea came several muffled explosions. That was the end. The ARA General Belgrano would never come back.
SURVIVAL ABOARD THE RAFT
The Belgrano sank on Sunday, May 2, 1982 at about 1700. At that latitude it’s already dark at 1800, and the skies are usually clouded over. Dusk was falling and we prepared ourselves to spend the night. We didn’t imagine then what was expecting us.
We were under leaden, lowering clouds, and after a while a storm struck with appalling savagery. Some of the waves towering over us were 10 m high, topped with frothing caps of white. For minutes on end, the screaming wind held steady at 100 km/h, dropping the temperature well below zero. We were dancing to the tune of the ocean, a wild and malevolent dance that made our raft climb the wave until the crest kicked our backs sending us flying to the other end of the raft. Then we crashed down endlessly, with a roller-coaster-like sensation that made us sick. The effort was double when we had to go back hastily to our position to keep the balance of the raft. Besides, the ports didn’t close well. When waves broke their tops in the roof, water seeped inside so the raft kept a constant 3 cm water level in the bilge. We did our best to drain the bilgewater to no avail, there was always new water entering.
I felt rather ill. The dehydration of the injured tissues was noticeable now. Shuddering, I curled up under the poncho and was able to sleep for a while. Nevertheless it was not possible for me to sleep much, the breaking waves and the nausea prevented it. When I was seasick the corporal beside me pulled the navy cap out of my head and put it on my face. When I finished the cap was passed by hand until it reached the guy at the port. He washed it and then it was returned back to me.
When somebody had to urinate the situation became something out of a Kafka book. Let me tell you about it. When the need arrived, we had to sit onto the raft sidepipe. By making an effort and taking very good aim, we did pee into the only available vessel: the Bengal lights packing tube, similar to the one containing tennis balls. Then the tube was passed by hand until it reached the man at the port, who gave it the same treatment received by my navy cap. Mind you, it wasn’t an easy manoeuvre. To sit on the sidepipe we had to stand up, support the wave blows right onto our shoulders, open the fly with numb fingers, find Dickie (who had a strong tendence to disappear inside) and make a laborious effort to aim the spout – all this while the massive mountains of water, broken and confused, shook the raft this way or that. Everybody had to submit to this. At the start those who were near the port tried to urinate out just like that, but after a couple of times they gave up because it was so frightfully cold outside that Dickie risked frostbite – and that was no joke.
Speaking about the cold, it was indeed intense. A “port watch” was established to keep ports manually closed as much as possible, but it was sheer torture: hands froze to the very marrow of the bones. Even donning two sets of gloves, the flying spray and the chilled winds made impossible to stand more than ten minutes on watch.
Let’s go back to my wounds: when I had entered the raft by instinct I had protected my burnt hand and forearm against my chest. The wounds were suppurating so after a while they stuck to my undershirt. In one of the many shakes and jolts of the raft the whole lot became unstuck and I started to bleed. I asked for ‘Pancutan’ or something alike from the first-aid box, covered the burns with the paste and then somebody dressed my arm and hand with a bandage.
As I said before, there was always bilgewater in the raft floor. The water was quite cold and the deadly chill crept upwards from feet to calves. My toes were numbed so I was continuously moving them to avoid the well known “trench foot”. I was lucky, I didn’t get any frostbite.
You know, we were in silence almost all the time, although the officer in charge tried to keep us awake by singing or praying. In general we were serene and hopeful, so much that the few comments that were made from time to time were about when will our raft be seen, or how we were going to be rescued.
RESCUE
The dawn brought with it better climate. Above, patches of blue sky and some sun rays could be seen at fleeting intervals and our hopes for a prompt rescue grew. Nothing happened during the morning. Alas, about 1300 a Neptune airplane passed wavehopping and saluting with the wings in the best Hollywood style. We were desperate to be seen so we tried to signal our position with the Bengal lights (the instructions were written in English!) but we failed to do so with the type to be fired. At last, we succeeded with the manual lights.
Actually, we thought we were the only survivors because we hadn’t seen other rafts. Later on we realized that we had another raft quite near, less than 100 meters from us, and a couple more farther away. The fact is that we were all the time in a sea of massive mountain-like waves which plunged our raft, and the others, into the depths between the crests so we couldn’t see each other easily.
After the first sighting we felt more animated and willing to chat. After a while another airplane appeared, an A.R.A. F28 I think, and once again we started to yell, howl, shouting long live to our country and all those things that actually are more directed inside than outside. The rescue was near. I was thinking then that I was surrounded by guys I had never met before, there were some of them that I had never even seen on board. However, the fact of being together in a situation of life and death created such a feeling of closeness and affection that we knew that we were going to be “friends for life”.
The darkness closed on our Monday at sea. Nobody said anything, but all of us were afraid of another stormy night. More often than not new volunteers went to keep watch at port, not so much to comply with the specific task but to be on the lookout for any rescuers. Only after midnight we started to see the flaring lights of the salvage ships which were gradually getting near. Finally, on Tuesday at 0400 a flare light focused on our raft and accompanied the manoeuver until we brought ourselves alongside our rescuing ship, the Aviso Gurruchaga. Their skilled actions were complicated by the still agitated sea. We learned afterwards that there was a further storm expected that night, providentially delayed.
We were instructed to cut the raft roof with our navy clasp-knives to facilitate the boarding. When my mates were doing it I thought, “what a pity, how are we going to use it if we break it up so?” Probably I was losing my marbles by then, I didn’t recognize the difference between my raft and my ship. Then the instructions were for casualties going first. It seemed I was the only one on board, so I stood up and grasped the Gurruchaga port gangway ladder which was hanging down. I was able to climb just a couple of steps, then I looked up and cried, “take me up ‘cause I can’t do it!” They raised the ladder and finally I was on board. In the precise moment that two sailors took my arms my body literally became disconnected from my brain. I was conscious, I could see the deck when they dragged me along but I wasn’t able to move one muscle, I couldn’t even raise my head. I was taken inside, undressed, cleansed, cured and covered with a blanket. Now, when we meet, my friends still pull my leg recalling that as soon as I recovered my strength, I went on deck naked and greeting happily everybody – even the Captain, who embraced me when he saw me alive and kicking.
IN LAND AGAIN
When we reached Ushuaia I was taken to the Naval Hospital, where my wounds and burns were duly treated. We were looked upon with the greatest regard. Doctors, nurses, even standard citizens who came to the hospital to chat with us, everybody did their best to help us recover. I met there several crew members that were also burned, or that suffered sundry ailments caused by the cold. We heard about dead bodies found where there were no more than five people manning the raft, and about a couple of capsized drafts, one empty, the other with two bodies inside. We heard about some cases of trench-foot due to cold bilgewater, but fortunately none of them suffered any amputation.
From Ushuaia we were flown in a hospital plane to Puerto Belgrano. Our Commander, an old marine, was with us. He gave us courage with phrases like “be strong, my boys” or “come on, marine!”. He was an inspiring presence. Unfortunately, in the bunk upper to mine was a first corporal who died during the trip. We all prayed for his soul.
When we reached the Puerto Belgrano Naval Hospital I was taken to an intensive care room. A Surgeon-Captain entered the room carrying a basin and a bristle-brush of the type used to wash clothes. He asked me, “What do you like best, chlorinated water or lemon juice?” I didn’t understand much, but I remembered well that when I was a kid lemon juice hurt a lot when it fell on any bruise, so just in case I chose chlorinated water. The Captain filled the basin with liquid, took firmly the brush in his right hand and said matter-of-factly, “yell as much as you want, but if you touch me I’ll knock you out”, and started to clean up my wounded legs. I’m sure my cries were heard in the Antarctics. Once he was finished with the legs he continued with my arm and hand. When the brushing up was over I passed out. Later on he explained to me that it was the most effective method he knew to avoid infections. He was right. Burning wounds are very painful indeed, not only during treatment but because of the long recovery period required. I was burned in a 25% of my body with first, second and third degree burns. This notwithstanding, no grafting was ever needed.
After a couple of days, on Thursday, I saw my parents looking at me from the other side of my room window. As mothers come, my ma started to cry and it was not possible to make her stop. And my dad tried to tell jokes (they were awful, by the way) to avoid crying himself. They had not received my news since the sinking of the Belgrano, they were desperate and had been tracing me for days. Mother surreptitiously entered a corridor and was able to see me face to face just when I was being taken to intensive care to be treated. I realized then that I was probably looking very bad, her face said it clearly, but her eyes gave me also strength.
I get melancholic when I remember this, so I’ll cut it out. I spent 30 days in the hospital, then I was sent to Buenos Aires – to finish my conscription! I was lucky to be destinated to the Northern Dock Naval Station. It was light work, in the remaining 4-5 months spent there I just did one night watch at the barracks and another at the dock-yard. Of course: I was the quartermaster who prepared the duty lists so everybody was friendly to me. In October 1982 I left the service.
All of us who came out alive after the South Atlantic Seas experience have a common message: there is only one problem that offers no solution, and it’s death. Anything else can either be solved or it’s temporary. It’s like if you’d need to pass through such a dreadful ordeal to be able to establish a realistic range of values. With a few exceptions, almost all of us – commanding officers, petty officers, conscripts – have made our way in life, studying, working, raising a family and growing up as human beings. We have never lost – no, I’d prefer to say that we have purposely maintained the spirit-de-corps we found so many years ago. We still meet, there are always stories to be told about those days. The main feeling, however, is to renew the honor and the pride of being the cruiser ARA General Belgrano last crew. And we feel as our mission to pay homage to our 323 mates, heroes who were left behind in the South and who gave their lives for the best of reasons, our country.
A Survivor's Story.
My name is Marcelo Pozzo. I was a Class ’62 conscript. My initial task after instruction was as “chafa”, just general seamanship. In February 1982 I was sent to Machinery Division, Damage Control Station, acting as quartermaster’s assistant in peaceful times. While we were heading south I was on watch at the main alarm switchboard control station, but when clearing for action my duties were as stretcher-bearer/fireman in a damage control party.
WE WERE TORPEDOED
I’ll tell you about my experience. It was May 2, 1982. At 1600 I left my watch at the Damage Control Station in the heart of the ship. I had to be again on duty at 0000, so I decided to lie down and take a nap until dinnertime. In the very moment that I closed my eyes an unseen hammer-blow knocked me against the upper bunk. When I fell down a heat wave engulfed me, it felt as if the door of a huge blazing oven had suddenly opened. I know I yelled. In a matter of seconds my whole life run before my eyes, like in a movie. The moment passed, I stood up and heard cries and a very particular kind of silence. I realized then that the ship was silent, one gets so used to the humming of the machinery during navigation, it seems as if the boat is alive. Now it wasn’t.
I emerged from a hatchway and saw that there were people coming up from the lower decks, almost calmly. I didn’t understand why everybody was encouraging me to go out, giving me way. So I went on deck. I thought I was going to see everything in shambles but it wasn’t so, things seemed practically in order. When I turned I saw a friend of mine coming out from the same hatchway I had just passed through. He looked bruised and burnt. I asked him what had happened and he blurted out, “We were torpedoed, you asshole!” I looked at the floor and noticed that there was a pool of blood at my feet. “Gee, somebody got hurt”, I said to myself. Then I looked better: I was the one hurt. I had walked on my bare feet over broken glass. There was no trace of the socks I was wearing when I was laying on my bunk, what remained was just a torn piece of elastic. The skin in my legs was thoroughly lacerated from the knees down. My right fore-arm was covered with burns up to the hand and I had an ugly looking blister from the wrist to the little finger. I didn’t feel any pain, though – partly because of the stinging cold, partly (they told me later) because of the shock damp.
You know, it was odd. The controlled way everybody behaved, I mean. The officers voiced their commands, since power had failed and the speakers were useless. The men obeyed. Damage Control parties were assessing the wreckage, shoring up bulkheads and doing their best to bring the vessel under control. The medics took care of casualties, and there were people entering and taking out on deck the wounded that had remained trapped inside, notwithstanding the heavy clouds of smoke coming from several burning fires. Everybody was coldly doing his chores with unbelievable self control. When they called for Damage Control hands I recalled my duties and went to my station, but an officer saw me and packed me off to Sick Bay.
There are many things that I have learned since. I know now that every individual reacts differently in front of the same situation, but it is of the essence to keep a clear mind, to avoid getting flustered and to assign the right priorities. On the other hand, drills are important. Nobody thinks that his ship can sink, but has to know what to do if it happens. You’ve got to be prepared, exercising your brain in your moments of leisure about how would you behave if – or at least, bearing in mind and even memorizing where is every survival element on board, commenting it with the rest of your companions. I know, I know, it seems so silly, but it can happen to you. As my grandpa used to say, “Never say never...”
ABANDON SHIP!
Where was I? Yes, going to Sick Bay. While making my way I saw the medics carrying people out (there were two that had just undergone appendectomy) towards the next abandon ship station. They told me to do the same if I could walk by myself. I could indeed, my only fear (for I was barefoot) was to hurt my feet further with some splinters from the deck timber. So I proceeded to my assigned life raft muster station, which was starboard. My raft, # 63, was “hanging” from # 5 gun-turret astern. I was then halfway the vessel, so I started to walk laboriously astern. Going along I saw my mates of Damage Control trying to bring to life some portable drainage pumps. I came across a conscript loaded with a mountain of poncho-like covers, used by men on open deck watch as protection from the intense cold. He offered me one that I gratefully accepted. How commendable: the ship was sinking, and a guy had the sensible idea of distributing protective clothing among those who were unprepared to face the climate – as I was. You get to really know people only at moments like this.
Well, I put on my poncho and kept on walking astern. The General Belgrano was 182 meters long, so everything was far away. When I reached my station I found out that the life raft # 63 was no longer in its berth, it had probably gone overboard when the ship was hit. Other crew members assigned to the lost raft were as worried as I was, so we asked permission from the Officer in Charge to board the neighboring raft which had just been launched. In that moment we heard the repeated command of “Abandon Ship!” It was a frightful order.
The list to port was rather pronounced, it wasn’t easy to stand straight on deck. I looked around and saw several images that still remain in my memory: 1) there were several rafts already launched on the sea, 2) the portboard was touching the water, and crew members reached the rafts by doing just a short jump, 3) there were people badly burned, they looked black, a dreadful sight, 4) some tactical divers were setting up a motor-driven rubber dinghy, 5) the Second Commanding Officer was standing on the bridge and shouting the order to abandon ship using his hands horn-like, 6) actions were performed in an orderly fashion.
The Petty Officer in charge of the newly found raft shook me out of my contemplative surrealistic environment bringing me back to reality, and told me that since I was injured I was going into the raft first. The matter was far from easy. The ship listed to port and we were starboard. Somebody secured a rope and I started to descend, barefoot, hanging Batman-like until I could step on a bull’s-eye. The other guys coming down after me were urging me to jump. The raft was rearing and plunging upon 15 m high waves, so I calculated the trajectory, committed my life to God and jumped. I was lucky, I fell upon the raft’s roof and sprang immediately inside; then I huddled myself up and heard my mates falling down one by one into the raft. Some of them failed the target however, and fell screaming into the icy sea. We were able to pick up just two of them, the other three died after a few minutes of being suddenly plunged into the glacially cold water, we could see them afloat in their lifebelts – lifebelts, what an irony, their life was gone. The oil in the water made quite difficult to grasp anything, everything was so slippery. In addition the raft was almost round, so managing her to get near the men was terribly difficult.
When nobody else seemed to be on deck we decided to cut the anchor rope. The vessel was by then almost totally leaning to one side, her port rails dipping under the surface of the sea. We could perfectly see the hull bottom, the axis of one of the propeller screws, the chalky incrustations. Since the port to access the raft was rather small I slipped inside and left the others to man the oars to pull us away. When we were just five meters away from the hull everybody started to yell, “She’s sinking!” There followed a deep silence. We were all thinking the same: now the rushing vortex of water is going to suck us down. A corporal beside me embraced me in tears, I was also crying when I returned the embrace. Once again I saw in rapid sequence sundry images of my life, and I felt a strange sensation, as when you are observing a scene from above. Perhaps I thought that I was going to die. I reacted when I heard my mates shouts, “long live our country!”, “long live the Belgrano!”
We started to pray, all of us. God heard us, because suddenly the tactical divers were among the rafts using their motorized rubber dinghy to separate one from the other, thus allowing more freedom of movement. (Another commendable behavior, wasn’t it?). They succeeded in removing us to a certain distance, but all the same we remained very near the place where our ship had sunk. From the bottom of the sea came several muffled explosions. That was the end. The ARA General Belgrano would never come back.
SURVIVAL ABOARD THE RAFT
The Belgrano sank on Sunday, May 2, 1982 at about 1700. At that latitude it’s already dark at 1800, and the skies are usually clouded over. Dusk was falling and we prepared ourselves to spend the night. We didn’t imagine then what was expecting us.
We were under leaden, lowering clouds, and after a while a storm struck with appalling savagery. Some of the waves towering over us were 10 m high, topped with frothing caps of white. For minutes on end, the screaming wind held steady at 100 km/h, dropping the temperature well below zero. We were dancing to the tune of the ocean, a wild and malevolent dance that made our raft climb the wave until the crest kicked our backs sending us flying to the other end of the raft. Then we crashed down endlessly, with a roller-coaster-like sensation that made us sick. The effort was double when we had to go back hastily to our position to keep the balance of the raft. Besides, the ports didn’t close well. When waves broke their tops in the roof, water seeped inside so the raft kept a constant 3 cm water level in the bilge. We did our best to drain the bilgewater to no avail, there was always new water entering.
I felt rather ill. The dehydration of the injured tissues was noticeable now. Shuddering, I curled up under the poncho and was able to sleep for a while. Nevertheless it was not possible for me to sleep much, the breaking waves and the nausea prevented it. When I was seasick the corporal beside me pulled the navy cap out of my head and put it on my face. When I finished the cap was passed by hand until it reached the guy at the port. He washed it and then it was returned back to me.
When somebody had to urinate the situation became something out of a Kafka book. Let me tell you about it. When the need arrived, we had to sit onto the raft sidepipe. By making an effort and taking very good aim, we did pee into the only available vessel: the Bengal lights packing tube, similar to the one containing tennis balls. Then the tube was passed by hand until it reached the man at the port, who gave it the same treatment received by my navy cap. Mind you, it wasn’t an easy manoeuvre. To sit on the sidepipe we had to stand up, support the wave blows right onto our shoulders, open the fly with numb fingers, find Dickie (who had a strong tendence to disappear inside) and make a laborious effort to aim the spout – all this while the massive mountains of water, broken and confused, shook the raft this way or that. Everybody had to submit to this. At the start those who were near the port tried to urinate out just like that, but after a couple of times they gave up because it was so frightfully cold outside that Dickie risked frostbite – and that was no joke.
Speaking about the cold, it was indeed intense. A “port watch” was established to keep ports manually closed as much as possible, but it was sheer torture: hands froze to the very marrow of the bones. Even donning two sets of gloves, the flying spray and the chilled winds made impossible to stand more than ten minutes on watch.
Let’s go back to my wounds: when I had entered the raft by instinct I had protected my burnt hand and forearm against my chest. The wounds were suppurating so after a while they stuck to my undershirt. In one of the many shakes and jolts of the raft the whole lot became unstuck and I started to bleed. I asked for ‘Pancutan’ or something alike from the first-aid box, covered the burns with the paste and then somebody dressed my arm and hand with a bandage.
As I said before, there was always bilgewater in the raft floor. The water was quite cold and the deadly chill crept upwards from feet to calves. My toes were numbed so I was continuously moving them to avoid the well known “trench foot”. I was lucky, I didn’t get any frostbite.
You know, we were in silence almost all the time, although the officer in charge tried to keep us awake by singing or praying. In general we were serene and hopeful, so much that the few comments that were made from time to time were about when will our raft be seen, or how we were going to be rescued.
RESCUE
The dawn brought with it better climate. Above, patches of blue sky and some sun rays could be seen at fleeting intervals and our hopes for a prompt rescue grew. Nothing happened during the morning. Alas, about 1300 a Neptune airplane passed wavehopping and saluting with the wings in the best Hollywood style. We were desperate to be seen so we tried to signal our position with the Bengal lights (the instructions were written in English!) but we failed to do so with the type to be fired. At last, we succeeded with the manual lights.
Actually, we thought we were the only survivors because we hadn’t seen other rafts. Later on we realized that we had another raft quite near, less than 100 meters from us, and a couple more farther away. The fact is that we were all the time in a sea of massive mountain-like waves which plunged our raft, and the others, into the depths between the crests so we couldn’t see each other easily.
After the first sighting we felt more animated and willing to chat. After a while another airplane appeared, an A.R.A. F28 I think, and once again we started to yell, howl, shouting long live to our country and all those things that actually are more directed inside than outside. The rescue was near. I was thinking then that I was surrounded by guys I had never met before, there were some of them that I had never even seen on board. However, the fact of being together in a situation of life and death created such a feeling of closeness and affection that we knew that we were going to be “friends for life”.
The darkness closed on our Monday at sea. Nobody said anything, but all of us were afraid of another stormy night. More often than not new volunteers went to keep watch at port, not so much to comply with the specific task but to be on the lookout for any rescuers. Only after midnight we started to see the flaring lights of the salvage ships which were gradually getting near. Finally, on Tuesday at 0400 a flare light focused on our raft and accompanied the manoeuver until we brought ourselves alongside our rescuing ship, the Aviso Gurruchaga. Their skilled actions were complicated by the still agitated sea. We learned afterwards that there was a further storm expected that night, providentially delayed.
We were instructed to cut the raft roof with our navy clasp-knives to facilitate the boarding. When my mates were doing it I thought, “what a pity, how are we going to use it if we break it up so?” Probably I was losing my marbles by then, I didn’t recognize the difference between my raft and my ship. Then the instructions were for casualties going first. It seemed I was the only one on board, so I stood up and grasped the Gurruchaga port gangway ladder which was hanging down. I was able to climb just a couple of steps, then I looked up and cried, “take me up ‘cause I can’t do it!” They raised the ladder and finally I was on board. In the precise moment that two sailors took my arms my body literally became disconnected from my brain. I was conscious, I could see the deck when they dragged me along but I wasn’t able to move one muscle, I couldn’t even raise my head. I was taken inside, undressed, cleansed, cured and covered with a blanket. Now, when we meet, my friends still pull my leg recalling that as soon as I recovered my strength, I went on deck naked and greeting happily everybody – even the Captain, who embraced me when he saw me alive and kicking.
IN LAND AGAIN
When we reached Ushuaia I was taken to the Naval Hospital, where my wounds and burns were duly treated. We were looked upon with the greatest regard. Doctors, nurses, even standard citizens who came to the hospital to chat with us, everybody did their best to help us recover. I met there several crew members that were also burned, or that suffered sundry ailments caused by the cold. We heard about dead bodies found where there were no more than five people manning the raft, and about a couple of capsized drafts, one empty, the other with two bodies inside. We heard about some cases of trench-foot due to cold bilgewater, but fortunately none of them suffered any amputation.
From Ushuaia we were flown in a hospital plane to Puerto Belgrano. Our Commander, an old marine, was with us. He gave us courage with phrases like “be strong, my boys” or “come on, marine!”. He was an inspiring presence. Unfortunately, in the bunk upper to mine was a first corporal who died during the trip. We all prayed for his soul.
When we reached the Puerto Belgrano Naval Hospital I was taken to an intensive care room. A Surgeon-Captain entered the room carrying a basin and a bristle-brush of the type used to wash clothes. He asked me, “What do you like best, chlorinated water or lemon juice?” I didn’t understand much, but I remembered well that when I was a kid lemon juice hurt a lot when it fell on any bruise, so just in case I chose chlorinated water. The Captain filled the basin with liquid, took firmly the brush in his right hand and said matter-of-factly, “yell as much as you want, but if you touch me I’ll knock you out”, and started to clean up my wounded legs. I’m sure my cries were heard in the Antarctics. Once he was finished with the legs he continued with my arm and hand. When the brushing up was over I passed out. Later on he explained to me that it was the most effective method he knew to avoid infections. He was right. Burning wounds are very painful indeed, not only during treatment but because of the long recovery period required. I was burned in a 25% of my body with first, second and third degree burns. This notwithstanding, no grafting was ever needed.
After a couple of days, on Thursday, I saw my parents looking at me from the other side of my room window. As mothers come, my ma started to cry and it was not possible to make her stop. And my dad tried to tell jokes (they were awful, by the way) to avoid crying himself. They had not received my news since the sinking of the Belgrano, they were desperate and had been tracing me for days. Mother surreptitiously entered a corridor and was able to see me face to face just when I was being taken to intensive care to be treated. I realized then that I was probably looking very bad, her face said it clearly, but her eyes gave me also strength.
I get melancholic when I remember this, so I’ll cut it out. I spent 30 days in the hospital, then I was sent to Buenos Aires – to finish my conscription! I was lucky to be destinated to the Northern Dock Naval Station. It was light work, in the remaining 4-5 months spent there I just did one night watch at the barracks and another at the dock-yard. Of course: I was the quartermaster who prepared the duty lists so everybody was friendly to me. In October 1982 I left the service.
All of us who came out alive after the South Atlantic Seas experience have a common message: there is only one problem that offers no solution, and it’s death. Anything else can either be solved or it’s temporary. It’s like if you’d need to pass through such a dreadful ordeal to be able to establish a realistic range of values. With a few exceptions, almost all of us – commanding officers, petty officers, conscripts – have made our way in life, studying, working, raising a family and growing up as human beings. We have never lost – no, I’d prefer to say that we have purposely maintained the spirit-de-corps we found so many years ago. We still meet, there are always stories to be told about those days. The main feeling, however, is to renew the honor and the pride of being the cruiser ARA General Belgrano last crew. And we feel as our mission to pay homage to our 323 mates, heroes who were left behind in the South and who gave their lives for the best of reasons, our country.
3rd May
Fog descends over the Carrier Battle Group's operating area.
The Argentine warships pull back to operate in shallower water, where submarines could not follow.
03:15. A Sea King troop transport, just after dropping its load of SAS, sees a well-lit but unidentifiable surface contact. It closes to check it out, and is greeted with a burst of machinegun fire. Taking some umbrage at this act, it calls back and requests that the contact be taught some manners.
Lynxes from Coventry and Glasgow are ordered launched, but Glasgow's suffers a delay for technical fault. They are armed with the Sea Skua missile, still in development so technically this was live-fire-testing. A single missile was fired, and it impacted the armed tug ARA Comodoro Somellera (ex-USS Catawba), exploding and sinking her.
0500:Glasgow's Lynx eventually gets airborne, and detects ARA Alferez Sobral, another armed Sotoyomo class tug, and also a WWII US Navy veteran, formerly USS Salish. Upon also receiving machinegun fire, it launches two Sea Skuas. The ship is badly damaged, the Captain and seven crewmen killed. The damaged bridge is now on display in a museum, the vessel still remains in Argentine navy service.
The fallout from the Sun’s headline caused a diplomatic tidal wave.
Reaching for the 'End-of-the-world' type, and the largest font ever seen in a British Newspaper, the Sun's headline was the most famous of the war. However, when the news that Belgrano had actually sunk made its way to the UK, later editions had the headline changed to "Did 1,200 Argies drown?"
This turns out to be something of a PR disaster, those nasty bullying British Imperialists picking on the weak Latin Americans. In what really wasn't Ireland's proudest moment on the international scene, it calls for a security council meeting, declares the UK to be aggressors, and lifts its sanctions on Argentina. Italy does likewise, and Germany calls for a cease-fire.
The Argentines, of course, milk it for all their worth on the international scene, after all, everybody admitted the ship was sunk outside the declared exclusion zone, and heading West, towards Argentina. The British argue that direction and speed are irrelevant, as both can change instantly. What is important is capability and threat. Not made public was the fact that on 23rd April, the British had quietly handed the Argentinians a note saying that any ship, even if outside the TEZ, would be attacked if it was felt to pose a threat to the Task Force.
Interestingly, even the Argentine Navy believed it was a fair cop. Interviewed after the war, CPT Hector Bonzo, commanding Belgrano, stated that he did not blame the British for sinking his ship, it's the sort of thing that happens in a war, and he'd have done the same thing.
Of course, after this incident, the national pride would not allow Argentina to back down.
Fog descends over the Carrier Battle Group's operating area.
The Argentine warships pull back to operate in shallower water, where submarines could not follow.
03:15. A Sea King troop transport, just after dropping its load of SAS, sees a well-lit but unidentifiable surface contact. It closes to check it out, and is greeted with a burst of machinegun fire. Taking some umbrage at this act, it calls back and requests that the contact be taught some manners.
Lynxes from Coventry and Glasgow are ordered launched, but Glasgow's suffers a delay for technical fault. They are armed with the Sea Skua missile, still in development so technically this was live-fire-testing. A single missile was fired, and it impacted the armed tug ARA Comodoro Somellera (ex-USS Catawba), exploding and sinking her.
0500:Glasgow's Lynx eventually gets airborne, and detects ARA Alferez Sobral, another armed Sotoyomo class tug, and also a WWII US Navy veteran, formerly USS Salish. Upon also receiving machinegun fire, it launches two Sea Skuas. The ship is badly damaged, the Captain and seven crewmen killed. The damaged bridge is now on display in a museum, the vessel still remains in Argentine navy service.
The fallout from the Sun’s headline caused a diplomatic tidal wave.
Reaching for the 'End-of-the-world' type, and the largest font ever seen in a British Newspaper, the Sun's headline was the most famous of the war. However, when the news that Belgrano had actually sunk made its way to the UK, later editions had the headline changed to "Did 1,200 Argies drown?"
This turns out to be something of a PR disaster, those nasty bullying British Imperialists picking on the weak Latin Americans. In what really wasn't Ireland's proudest moment on the international scene, it calls for a security council meeting, declares the UK to be aggressors, and lifts its sanctions on Argentina. Italy does likewise, and Germany calls for a cease-fire.
The Argentines, of course, milk it for all their worth on the international scene, after all, everybody admitted the ship was sunk outside the declared exclusion zone, and heading West, towards Argentina. The British argue that direction and speed are irrelevant, as both can change instantly. What is important is capability and threat. Not made public was the fact that on 23rd April, the British had quietly handed the Argentinians a note saying that any ship, even if outside the TEZ, would be attacked if it was felt to pose a threat to the Task Force.
Interestingly, even the Argentine Navy believed it was a fair cop. Interviewed after the war, CPT Hector Bonzo, commanding Belgrano, stated that he did not blame the British for sinking his ship, it's the sort of thing that happens in a war, and he'd have done the same thing.
Of course, after this incident, the national pride would not allow Argentina to back down.
Kermit power said:
SD, when you say the Alferez Sobral is still in service now, does that mean at some point in the past when you first wrote this, or does the Argentinian Navy really still have 70+ year old vessels in service?
Still in service, although I will try to check when it last went to sea.Guess how old the Royal Navy's oldest warship is?
SD.
4th April
Overnight the Carrier Battle Group had moved, the carriers were within 100 miles of Port Stanley with the three Type 42s formed into a picket line.
04:30: Black Buck II has a crack. The Vulcan's 21 bombs have 100% accuracy: They all hit the ground. The Stanley runway was un-hit, however.
Three Sea Harriers conduct a strike on Goose Green airfield. The potential targets were well camouflaged, and the air base had been put under a 24-hour full alert. The 35 mm cannons were relocated to the north and south of the small Goose Green peninsular from their original position west of the airstrip.
The raid's leading aircraft, piloted by Lt Cdr Gordie Batt, was locked up by the Skyguard system while flying from the east at very low altitude. Batt became aware of this from his onboard systems and deployed Chaff whilst breaking right so the Skyguard lost lock. However, behind the lead Sea Harrier was Sea Harrier XZ450, piloted by Lt Nick Taylor, this particular aircraft lacked a Radar Warning Receiver (RWR) as it had been removed before the war to fit instrumentation for a new missile, the Sea Eagle, that was undergoing trials.
Unaware of the threat ahead, Taylor was hit by a second salvo from the 35 mm cannons, XZ450's fuselage was hit and caught fire, losing the left wing in the process, it then cartwheeled in the air and crashed at a 10 degree angle.
Taylor's body was thrown through the canopy and fell 80 meters away from the crash site. The crash was caught on the gun camera film, of Flt Lt Ted Ball, which showed a large explosion in the region of the fuselage that was clearly unsurvivable
View Argentine State TV footage of his military funeral.
British forces begin bombarding Argentine positions around Stanley.
13:00.Preceeded by a P-2 Neptune Maritime Reconnaissance aircraft, and a KC-130 tanker, two Super-Etendards, each carrying a single AM.39 Exocet under the starboard wing (and a fuel tank under the port) leave their base at Tierra del Fuego. Pilots are LtCdr Augusto Bedacarratz and Lt Armando Mayora of the Argentine Navy.
13:56. The two aircraft pop up and turn on their Agave radars. They are detected by HMS Glasgow, who sounds the alarm to the fleet. Sheffield is using its satcom equipment, and does not detect the radars. Without correlation, the raid warning is considered to be the fifth false alarm of the day.
14:02. Picking up a target on the radar, both Exocets are launched. The Argentine pilots turn around, and head for home. The target is the Type-42 anti-air destroyer Sheffield, one of three out on picket duty. (The other two being Coventry and Glasgow). One missile goes rogue. The other tracks its target..
14:04. The first warning anyone on Sheffield gets that they are under a real attack is when the officer on the bridge, and the ship's helicopter pilot who is standing next to him, look out the window and see the missile with the Mk1 Eyeball. There's enough time to grab the mike and yell "Missile! Hit the deck!"
The impact knocked out the ship's water main, and started an uncontrollable fire. Twenty people are killed, many more injured, many by the artificial fibres in their clothing which melted to their skin.
HMS Yarmouth and Arrow are sent to assist. Part-way through the operation, they report torpedoes. Turns out (after much panic from nine reports and a few hours later) the noise was the high-pitched motor of one of the inflatables. After five hours, Cpt Sam Salt issues the order to Abandon Ship. The crew disembark onto the two frigates whilst singing "Always look on the bright side of life." The ship is left to burn, but continues to float.
SD.
Overnight the Carrier Battle Group had moved, the carriers were within 100 miles of Port Stanley with the three Type 42s formed into a picket line.
04:30: Black Buck II has a crack. The Vulcan's 21 bombs have 100% accuracy: They all hit the ground. The Stanley runway was un-hit, however.
Three Sea Harriers conduct a strike on Goose Green airfield. The potential targets were well camouflaged, and the air base had been put under a 24-hour full alert. The 35 mm cannons were relocated to the north and south of the small Goose Green peninsular from their original position west of the airstrip.
The raid's leading aircraft, piloted by Lt Cdr Gordie Batt, was locked up by the Skyguard system while flying from the east at very low altitude. Batt became aware of this from his onboard systems and deployed Chaff whilst breaking right so the Skyguard lost lock. However, behind the lead Sea Harrier was Sea Harrier XZ450, piloted by Lt Nick Taylor, this particular aircraft lacked a Radar Warning Receiver (RWR) as it had been removed before the war to fit instrumentation for a new missile, the Sea Eagle, that was undergoing trials.
Unaware of the threat ahead, Taylor was hit by a second salvo from the 35 mm cannons, XZ450's fuselage was hit and caught fire, losing the left wing in the process, it then cartwheeled in the air and crashed at a 10 degree angle.
Taylor's body was thrown through the canopy and fell 80 meters away from the crash site. The crash was caught on the gun camera film, of Flt Lt Ted Ball, which showed a large explosion in the region of the fuselage that was clearly unsurvivable
View Argentine State TV footage of his military funeral.
British forces begin bombarding Argentine positions around Stanley.
13:00.Preceeded by a P-2 Neptune Maritime Reconnaissance aircraft, and a KC-130 tanker, two Super-Etendards, each carrying a single AM.39 Exocet under the starboard wing (and a fuel tank under the port) leave their base at Tierra del Fuego. Pilots are LtCdr Augusto Bedacarratz and Lt Armando Mayora of the Argentine Navy.
13:56. The two aircraft pop up and turn on their Agave radars. They are detected by HMS Glasgow, who sounds the alarm to the fleet. Sheffield is using its satcom equipment, and does not detect the radars. Without correlation, the raid warning is considered to be the fifth false alarm of the day.
14:02. Picking up a target on the radar, both Exocets are launched. The Argentine pilots turn around, and head for home. The target is the Type-42 anti-air destroyer Sheffield, one of three out on picket duty. (The other two being Coventry and Glasgow). One missile goes rogue. The other tracks its target..
14:04. The first warning anyone on Sheffield gets that they are under a real attack is when the officer on the bridge, and the ship's helicopter pilot who is standing next to him, look out the window and see the missile with the Mk1 Eyeball. There's enough time to grab the mike and yell "Missile! Hit the deck!"
The impact knocked out the ship's water main, and started an uncontrollable fire. Twenty people are killed, many more injured, many by the artificial fibres in their clothing which melted to their skin.
HMS Yarmouth and Arrow are sent to assist. Part-way through the operation, they report torpedoes. Turns out (after much panic from nine reports and a few hours later) the noise was the high-pitched motor of one of the inflatables. After five hours, Cpt Sam Salt issues the order to Abandon Ship. The crew disembark onto the two frigates whilst singing "Always look on the bright side of life." The ship is left to burn, but continues to float.
SD.
I remember being out until about 9:30 pm on this day - a Tuesday. I came home and my parents were glued to the television. My dad, ex Royal Navy was grey, and in the corner, on the TV was the very measured tones of Ian McDonald the MOD press spokesman. I stood by the door listening to the announcement of HMS Sheffield's loss.
View the announcement.
It was now that it struck home that this was not going to be the walkover we were expecting. We were on a high having sunk the Belgrano, retaken South Georgia and the newspapers were full of how Britain's professional armed forces were so much better than the run down conscript army of a banana republic.
My dad cried silently, holding my mum -me being 15, almost 16 just left, too embarrassed.
I'll put up the details on HMS Sheffield later, I'm going to ring my dad soon, just for a chat.
SD.
View the announcement.
It was now that it struck home that this was not going to be the walkover we were expecting. We were on a high having sunk the Belgrano, retaken South Georgia and the newspapers were full of how Britain's professional armed forces were so much better than the run down conscript army of a banana republic.
My dad cried silently, holding my mum -me being 15, almost 16 just left, too embarrassed.
I'll put up the details on HMS Sheffield later, I'm going to ring my dad soon, just for a chat.
SD.
The Loss of HMS Sheffield
At approximately 10 A.M. on the 4 May, HMS Sheffield was at defence watches, second degree readiness. Sheffield had relieved her sister Coventry as the latter was having technical trouble with her Type 965 radar. Sheffield and Coventry were chatting over UHF. Communications ceased until an unidentified message was received stating simply "Sheffield is hit!". The flagship, Hermes dispatched the escorts Arrow and Yarmouth to investigate, and a helicopter was launched.
Confusion reigned until Sheffield's Lynx helicopter unexpectedly landed aboard Hermes carrying the Air Operations Officer and Operations Officer, confirming the disaster.
Part of a documentary covering the loss of HMS Sheffield and interview with the Commanding Officer.
Sheffield picked up the incoming missile on her ancient Type 965 radar (an interim fitting until the Type 1022 set was available), and the Operations Officer informed the Missile Director, who queried the contact in the ADAWS 4 fire control system. The launch aircraft had not been detected as the British had expected, and it was not until smoke was sighted that the target was confirmed as a sea skimming missile. Five seconds later, the Exocet impacted Sheffield amidships. Such was the lack of warning, there was no time to engage in defensive manoeuvres, leading to a change in policy that all ships believing to be even possibly under missile attack would turn toward the threat, accelerate to maximum speed and fire chaff to prevent a ship being caught defenceless again.
The Exocet was fired from one of two Super Étendards launched from Río Grande, Tierra del Fuego, and was piloted by Captain Augusto Bedacarratz, who commanded the mission. It was launched at the point-blank range of six miles; the British had expected it to be launched from long range (45 miles) at medium altitude, hence the difficulty in classifying it and taking effective countermeasures. It struck amidships, approximately 8 feet above the waterline on Deck 2, tearing a gash 4 feet by 10 feet in size in the vicinity of the galley, which occupied the full width of the hull.
The MOD report into the sinking of the Sheffield concluded that; "Evidence indicates that the Warhead did not detonate" . Some of the crew and members of the Task Force believe however that the missile's 363-pound warhead did in fact detonate upon impact. Regardless, the impact of the missile and the burning rocket motor set Sheffield ablaze.
Accounts suggest that the initial impact of the missile immediately crippled the ship's onboard electricity generating systems and fractured the water main, preventing the anti-fire mechanisms from operating effectively, and thereby dooming the ship to be consumed by the raging fire. It is also suggested that the ship's anti-missile radar was incompatible with the satellite communications link which reduced the chance of the Exocet being intercepted, although neither the Type 965 radar nor the Sea Dart missiles carried by Type 42s are particularly well suited to intercepts of low-flying missiles.
Read the Board of Inquiry report into the loss of HMS Sheffield, as well as the covering letter from Captain Salt,, a report into the events prior to missile impact, and finally the initial report into the loss.
After the ship was struck, her crew, waiting to be rescued, sang "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" from Monty Python's Life of Brian. The burnt-out hulk was taken in tow by the Rothesay class frigate Yarmouth but was scuttled at 53°04'S, 56°56' W on 10 May 1982 because of bad weather turning the ship into a waterlogged hulk, making it the first Royal Navy vessel sunk in action in almost forty years. Twenty of her crew (mainly on duty in the Galley-area) died during the attack. The wreck is a war grave and designated as a controlled site under the Protection of Military Remains Act 1986.
Roll of Honour - HMS Sheffield.
At approximately 10 A.M. on the 4 May, HMS Sheffield was at defence watches, second degree readiness. Sheffield had relieved her sister Coventry as the latter was having technical trouble with her Type 965 radar. Sheffield and Coventry were chatting over UHF. Communications ceased until an unidentified message was received stating simply "Sheffield is hit!". The flagship, Hermes dispatched the escorts Arrow and Yarmouth to investigate, and a helicopter was launched.
Confusion reigned until Sheffield's Lynx helicopter unexpectedly landed aboard Hermes carrying the Air Operations Officer and Operations Officer, confirming the disaster.
Part of a documentary covering the loss of HMS Sheffield and interview with the Commanding Officer.
Sheffield picked up the incoming missile on her ancient Type 965 radar (an interim fitting until the Type 1022 set was available), and the Operations Officer informed the Missile Director, who queried the contact in the ADAWS 4 fire control system. The launch aircraft had not been detected as the British had expected, and it was not until smoke was sighted that the target was confirmed as a sea skimming missile. Five seconds later, the Exocet impacted Sheffield amidships. Such was the lack of warning, there was no time to engage in defensive manoeuvres, leading to a change in policy that all ships believing to be even possibly under missile attack would turn toward the threat, accelerate to maximum speed and fire chaff to prevent a ship being caught defenceless again.
The Exocet was fired from one of two Super Étendards launched from Río Grande, Tierra del Fuego, and was piloted by Captain Augusto Bedacarratz, who commanded the mission. It was launched at the point-blank range of six miles; the British had expected it to be launched from long range (45 miles) at medium altitude, hence the difficulty in classifying it and taking effective countermeasures. It struck amidships, approximately 8 feet above the waterline on Deck 2, tearing a gash 4 feet by 10 feet in size in the vicinity of the galley, which occupied the full width of the hull.
The MOD report into the sinking of the Sheffield concluded that; "Evidence indicates that the Warhead did not detonate" . Some of the crew and members of the Task Force believe however that the missile's 363-pound warhead did in fact detonate upon impact. Regardless, the impact of the missile and the burning rocket motor set Sheffield ablaze.
Accounts suggest that the initial impact of the missile immediately crippled the ship's onboard electricity generating systems and fractured the water main, preventing the anti-fire mechanisms from operating effectively, and thereby dooming the ship to be consumed by the raging fire. It is also suggested that the ship's anti-missile radar was incompatible with the satellite communications link which reduced the chance of the Exocet being intercepted, although neither the Type 965 radar nor the Sea Dart missiles carried by Type 42s are particularly well suited to intercepts of low-flying missiles.
Read the Board of Inquiry report into the loss of HMS Sheffield, as well as the covering letter from Captain Salt,, a report into the events prior to missile impact, and finally the initial report into the loss.
After the ship was struck, her crew, waiting to be rescued, sang "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" from Monty Python's Life of Brian. The burnt-out hulk was taken in tow by the Rothesay class frigate Yarmouth but was scuttled at 53°04'S, 56°56' W on 10 May 1982 because of bad weather turning the ship into a waterlogged hulk, making it the first Royal Navy vessel sunk in action in almost forty years. Twenty of her crew (mainly on duty in the Galley-area) died during the attack. The wreck is a war grave and designated as a controlled site under the Protection of Military Remains Act 1986.
Roll of Honour - HMS Sheffield.
- Petty Officer David R. Briggs, D.S.M.
- Catering Assistant Darryl M. Cope
- Lieutenant Commander David I. Balfour
- Weapons Engineering Artificer Andrew C. Eggington
- Sub-Lieutenant Richard C. Emly
- Petty Officer Cook Robert Fagan
- Cook Neil A. Goodall
- Leading Marine Engineering Mechanic Allan J. Knowles
- Laundryman Lai Chi Keung
- Leading Cook Tony Marshall
- Petty Officer Anthony R. Norman
- Cook David E. Osborne
- Weapons Engineering Artificer Kevin R. F. Sullivan
- Cook Andrew C. Swallow
- Acting Chief Weapons Mechanic Michael E. G. Till
- Weapons Engineering Mechanic Barry J. Wallis
- Leading Cook Adrian K. Wellstead
- Master-at-Arms Brian Welsh
- WEO Lieutenant Commander John S. Woodhead, D.S.C. Read his citation in the London Gazette.
- Cook Kevin J. Williams
Kermit power said:
shed driver said:
It makes you wonder whether our TV news coverage of conflicts comes across as so obviously complete propaganda to the other side. The comments in that report along the lines of "one of the many enemy aircraft shot down over the Argentinian Malvinas" really are pretty blatant.I remember seeing almost real time news from the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in June 1982 - a complete contrast to the belated news from the Falklands.
SD.
Very true, but looking at this news report - https://youtu.be/jTEUD4A3CoM - it shows the rather inflated Argentine losses that we claimed.
The BBC comes in for some very major criticism later in the conflict - with reporting that may possibily have led to loss of life (and ships).
SD.
The BBC comes in for some very major criticism later in the conflict - with reporting that may possibily have led to loss of life (and ships).
SD.
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