Three Days in June, page 49
Spr Tommy Trindall
I was detailed to guard the prisoner who had missed being evacuated earlier. We shared a shell scrape, he just wanted to keep warm and not be killed, and it was as simple as that. It was bitterly cold and he was shivering and gibbering, and I wasn’t much better off. I had given him a poncho earlier to wrap himself up in. As the night progressed it began to snow and the cold intensified, we were both frozen to the core. I thought, Fuck this. I got up and took the poncho off him; he looked shocked, but I indicated we should both share the poncho as the heat from both of us would keep us warmer. We spent the rest of the night like that.
8.6 ‘Padre, there’s a rumour going round that they’ve surrendered’
MONDAY 14 JUNE 1982
Over the evening of 13/14 June, 2 PARA attack Wireless Ridge. The Scots Guards attack Mount Tumbledown, but most of 3 PARA who are not involved in supporting 2 PARA are just trying to keep warm and get some sleep.
Captain Julian James injures his back while acting as an MFC for 2 PARA:
02.01hrs (zt): from C/S 50B to C/S 9: ‘50 has been hit are stretcher-bearers coming from us or 2 PARA?’
02.01hrs (zt): from C/S 9 to C/S 50B: ‘Casevac by 2 PARA system, did 59 know C/S 50 was with 2 PARA?’
02.12hrs (zt): from C/S 50B to C/S 9: ‘Sunray 50 was not travelling with 2 PARA; he was in OP, trying to get Grid now.’
02.12hrs (zt): from C/S 9 to C/S 50B: ‘50 now making his way back to 9A (is it Sunray 50?) with back injury.’
02.30hrs (zt): from C/S 50B to C/S 9A: ‘50 OP party have minor injuries and will stay where they are until morning.’
03.00hrs (zt): from C/S 0 to C/S 85: ‘30 blankets required by RAP, can they be delivered in daylight?’
03.00hrs (zt): from C/S 85 to C/S 0: ‘Roger, passed to 85B.’
03.40hrs (zt): from C/S 0 to C/S 99: ‘Casevac helicopter flying, will be flying west of your location.’
03.50hrs (zt): from C/S 0 to C/S 99: ‘Warning Order 3 x casualties 22 SAS details to follow shortly.’
03.45hrs (zt): from C/S 69 to C/S 0: ‘Standby for casevac, 3 casualties, details to follow.’
03.45hrs (zt): from C/S 0 to C/S 69: ‘Brigade warned, grid 415784.’
03.55hrs (zt): from C/S 69 to C/S 0: ‘Now 4 casualties, 2 x seriously injured walking with assistance (mortar splinters); 2 x minor, checking grid now 398781.’
03.55hrs from C/S 0 to C/S 69: ‘New details passed to Brigade.’
First light approximately 10.00hrs (zt).
Following a very quiet, but intensely cold night for the bulk of 3 PARA, the morning of 14 June proves to be another bitterly cold start. There is a thin layer of snow on the ground and at about 10.30hrs (zt) it begins snowing. The medical team begin to treat members of the battalion who are now starting to feel the effects of three weeks in freezing conditions and suffering from hypothermia.
CSgt Brian Faulkner
It was decided that for the next phase of the operation, our team would consist of Major Roger Patton, Captain Burgess, WO2 Kenny Sargent, Sgt Steve Bradley and Pte John Kennedy who would ride in the BVs. Captain Mike Von Bertele’s team of Cpl Davie Wilson, Cpl Neil Parkin and Padre Derek Heaver plus a team of stretcher-bearers would move on foot with the battalion for the big push into Stanley. The BVs carrying all the extra medical supplies would bring up the rear.
11.05hrs (zt): from C/S 9A to C/S 0: ‘Send Brimstone to my location.’
[‘Brimstone’ is the code name for Padre.]
Padre Derek Heaver
When I arrived back on Monday morning from Estancia House I asked how things had been on the previous day. CSgt Faulkner replied, ‘Padre, it was bad, you wouldn’t have liked being here.’ I was now beginning to think about what would lie ahead for us, during the battle for Port Stanley.
Cpl Phil Probets
The battalion’s next objective was Moody Brook, so I restocked all my medical supplies ready for the next push. I had also found quite a bit of Argentine medical kit. By then, I was thinking that I had become quite numb to all the death and destruction that had happened over the past couple of days. I was just resigned to the fact that we were going to do it all over again.
Captain (Doctor) John Burgess
It all began to quieten; the shelling was becoming less frequent and certainly less accurate as the enemy OPs were destroyed. The CO then began to brief his officers on the forthcoming attack on Moody Brook. He covered the advance into Stanley itself, at least as far as the racecourse. During the ‘O’ Group held on the side of the mountain, the snow continued to fall. Everyone wondered how the attack on Stanley would result with regard to casualties.
Pte John Kennedy
On the Monday morning, we were told our next battalion objective would be an attack on Moody Brook, and then on to the racecourse. We loaded up with shell dressings, intravenous drips and extra blankets. We needed the blankets because it was so bitterly cold and we were desperately short of warm kit. But, fortunately, today we obtained from somewhere a load of multicoloured blankets, reds, greens and white, which we packed into MFO boxes and put in the back of the Snowcat vehicles. The vehicles were so crammed full of supplies it almost left no room for the medics.
WO2 John Carey
The 2ic Major Patton briefed me on the forthcoming push into Stanley. We loaded the bodies of Pte Craig Jones and Cfn Alex Shaw into a BV for evacuation to Teal Inlet. Then the OC of C Company, Major Osborne, contacted me and asked me to take over the role of CSM of C Company as their CSM had hurt his knee. I made my way over to meet up with them and take up my new role.
LCpl Cliff Legg
After a sleepless freezing night, I made my way across to rejoin C Company on Wing Forward. They said, ‘Where the fuck did you come from?’ I said, ‘From that big hill over there.’
CO’s ‘O’ Group is held in the RAP area at 12.00hrs (zt).
Major Roger Patton
On the morning of the 14 June, we were holding an ‘O’ Group in my area. It was snowing and very cold. The Commanding Officer and all the Company Commanders were present. During the ‘O’ Group, one of the signallers, in fact, my signaller, LCpl Harry Wilkie, came up and stood at the edge of the ‘O’ Group. The CO was slightly irritated by his presence, as he was in the middle of his ‘O’ Group. He was very persistent, this young LCpl, he interrupted the Commanding Officer and said, ‘Sir, I’ve just received a message from Formation Headquarters that we are to be ready to move in 30 minutes.’ The information was somehow quickly evident to us that the Argentinians had begun to withdraw, and shortly after the cessation of that ‘O’ Group the battalion was on the move.
We were pushed on as fast as possible by the CO. I packed up the RAP and we moved all the vehicles round to the northern side of Mount Longdon and across to Wireless Ridge, which was 2 PARA’s objective the night before.
12.10hrs (zt): from C/S 0 to C/S 9: ‘Enemy withdrawing from Sapper Hill, unconfirmed report 300 enemy withdrawing.’
12.50hrs (zt): From C/S 0 to All Stations: ‘All Stations on 30 minutes to move.’
14.08hrs (zt): from C/S CK to C/S 0: ‘1 wounded to go back, D 40: frostbite.’
Pte Craig (Tommy) Onions
On Monday we were told to get all our kit together and that we may be moving off at any moment. From the experience of the last few days, I packed as many shell dressings as I could. We then just hung around waiting for the word to go. Eventually we moved off, making our way along the northern side of Longdon. As I walked along my boot clipped something, I looked down to see an AP [anti-personnel] mine. It seemed to roll away in slow motion, into the heather, and luckily, for some reason it failed to explode.
Spr Tommy Trindall
I think we heard it over the radio that there’d been a ceasefire. We were moving in single file and could see AP mines to the left and right of us. All the tops were exposed. The Troop Commander put his hand up and signalled for us to stop. It was at that moment the signaller, Spr Willie MacDonald, told Captain Burns, ‘Sir, there are reports that the Argies are surrendering.’
Padre Derek Heaver
We began to move off Mount Longdon and Sgt Hopper said, ‘Padre, there’s a rumour going round that they’ve surrendered.’ I said, ‘Let’s not speculate.’ Then, a short while later, someone said, ‘They have surrendered!’ I replied, ‘We need to hear it officially.’ Then it came down the line, ‘Helmets off, berets on!’ Then I believed it.
15.15hrs (zt): from C/S 9A to C/S 0: ‘Sgt Bradley (HQ) / Pte Hardwick (SP) – stomach pains / Spr Tickle (9 Sqn) brought to our location, plus one enemy prisoner.’
Pte John Kennedy
The mood changed completely. Just outside of Stanley we found a wounded Argentine lying on the floor. He had been shot in the chest and was in a bad way, and he was to be the last casualty of the war that I treated. We loaded him into the Snowcat and took him into the medical centre in Port Stanley. Then the battle for accommodation began. Once in Stanley we started to treat all manner of problems, ranging from trench foot to piles, and diarrhoea and vomiting which were caused by either contaminated water or eating Argentine rations.
LCpl Paul (Ginge) Moore
As soon as we went over the top of Wireless Ridge we could see Argentine troops streaming off the hills on the other side of the valley. We soon caught up with the lead company of 3 PARA [C Company] and then came across some 2 PARA lads sat by the side of the road. We continued up to the war memorial on the seafront, but we were told not to go any further whilst negotiations were ongoing.
CSgt Brian Faulkner
We decided that it would be too dangerous to have all of us in one vehicle because of the danger of a mine explosion. We would walk in the tracks of the vehicle at a safe distance. We slowly made our way along the northern side of Longdon, in the low ground heading towards Wireless Ridge. Suddenly, Major Patton told the RAP team driver to stop the vehicle. I said, ‘What are we stopping for?’ He replied, ‘There are white flags flying in Stanley, it’s all over.’
We then waited for the battalion flag to be flown forward in a chopper, which was en route to us. While we waited, we looked for something we could use as a flagpole. The only thing we had was a six-foot length of Bangalore torpedo. Shortly after the chopper turned up with the flag, we attached it to the Bangalore torpedo and had a group photo taken. If you look closely at the photo, you will see yellow stencilling three-quarters of the way up our flagpole saying, ‘Bangalore torpedo MK1’. We were quite elated as we advanced along the Ross Road waving the flag, with the blokes cheering us along.
Captain John (Doctor) Burgess
We received the order to advance at full speed to Stanley. During the move, it was learned that there had been reports of white flags to be seen over Stanley. We moved down into Moody Brook. The snow had melted by this time, the sun was shining, but clouds of smoke were clearly visible coming from the western edge of the town, and from the Moody Brook Barracks. The RAP vehicle was the first of the BVs to get into Stanley. We were ordered to stop, while a helicopter brought forward the 3 PARA flag. It was attached to a Bangalore torpedo and carried high above the BV victoriously along the Ross Road into Stanley.
Padre Derek Heaver
I was walking along the Ross Road towards Port Stanley, sharing conversations with as many of 3 PARA as I could see. One of the signallers left the friends he was with and walked over to me. I remember that he had a huge smile on his face. He put his hand out to shake mine and said, ‘Padre, I would never have admitted it before, but on Mount Longdon I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.’ I told him he was not the only one.
That evening, I decided to seek out the Rev. Harry Bagnall, the minister in charge of Stanley Cathedral, because I was sure we would need his church for a service. It was dark when I began walking along the Ross Road toward where I knew his church must be. In retrospect, it was a rather naive thing to do. It wasn’t long before I realized that I had strayed out of the British area and was now in an area where I heard Argentinians laughing, shouting and looting food and drink from containers. I noticed two Argentinian military policemen close by, and trying to appear casual, I went up to them and said, ‘Excuse me, do you know where the church is?’ They smiled, and were very courteous, and they replied in perfect English, giving me the directions. I said, ‘Thank you, I will visit it tomorrow.’ Then I beat a reasonably hasty retreat.
Pte Ashley Wright
I moved into a bungalow with fellow medics Cpl Steve Harding-Dempster and LCpl Dave Stott. Steve commandeered a Mercedes jeep and said, ‘Does anyone want to go for a joyride?’ We drove down to the airport and had a look around, and then later helped out in the King Edward VII Hospital treating Argentine soldiers and civilians.
Captain Norman (Nobby) Menzies
I was still at Teal Inlet when I got the message that the battalion was on the move heading to Stanley. I thought, ‘My place is in Stanley, I am not missing out on this.’ I was told I would be moved by landing craft the next day, but I couldn’t wait that long. So we got hold of a great big piece of cardboard and wrote on it ‘3 PARA, Help.’ I got the Landing Site Sergeant to hold it up; a Chinook helicopter pilot spotted it and landed with an SAS patrol onboard. He said, ‘What’s the matter?’ I said, ‘We need to get into Port Stanley now!’ He asked, ‘How many of you are there?’ I replied, ‘About ten and a bit of kit.’ ‘Okay, get in,’ was the reply and we flew into Stanley and landed on the racecourse. It was chaos; people were liberating food from an Argentine food store, eating steaks that hadn’t been cleared. The cook, Sgt Major [Smudge] Smith, took one whiff of the meat and straight away said most of it’s rotten. It was, in fact, contaminated and should never have been eaten.
Captain John (Doctor) Burgess
The city was a mess, with no sewerage, water or electricity. With no food provided, many men began looting the Argentinian food sources until further supplies could catch up with the advance. Luckily, there was no shortage of Argentinian food in Stanley itself, the frozen steak being a favourite of 3 PARA. Unfortunately, a lot of the battalion who had been based on the eastern end of Longdon suffered from a lack of fresh drinking water. Troops had been getting water from puddles in the peat and boiling it. This was insufficient to kill off all the bacteria, and with the inadequate sanitation, most of the battalion went down with diarrhoea and vomiting.
On the first evening in Stanley, Mike Von Bertele and I, along with two guards, crossed the ‘White Line’ that separated the opposing forces in the city. We went up the road to the King Edward VII Hospital. We were the first British soldiers into that area, and the welcome bestowed on us will always be remembered. It was one of my proudest moments of being a member of 3 PARA. It is impossible to convey in words those embraces and messages of thanks from the medical staff and other civilians sheltering in the hospital.
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1 From The Yompers: With 45 Commando in the Falklands War by Ian Gardiner.
2 From The Official History of the Falklands Campaign by Sir Lawrence Freedman.
3 Notes found in boxes 112 and 115 at the Museum of Army Flying, Middle Wallop.
4 From ‘A personal reflection on the Falklands Islands War of 1982’ by James M Ryan Journal of he RAMC, 2007.
WHEN THE FIGHTING IS OVER
The Third Battalion, The Parachute Regiment, left the Falkland Islands on Thursday 24 June 1982 onboard MV Norland bound for Ascension Island. From there they were flown back to the UK to RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire where, astonishingly, the soldiers immediately left the airport to go on leave.
The wounded were taken by ship to Montevideo in Uruguay, and from there were flown to RAF Brize Norton and then taken to RAF Hospital Wroughton where doctors would assess whether specialist hospital treatment was needed, or whether soldiers could be allowed home for the weekend. I was told I could go home but was asked to return to the hospital for assessment the following Monday morning.
On my way home, I asked my father if we could stop at a pub. We walked in and everyone was acting normally, chatting, as if the war had never happened. The barman poured a pint, which I paid for. Standing in my naval uniform with my head swathed in bandages, it was almost like I was from another world.
I spent the following four months in and out of hospital, eventually returning to my battalion in November 1982. On my return, something in the battalion had changed. I learned that some soldiers simply never returned to the army and were never seen again – the Falklands campaign had just been too much. A few soldiers were admitted to the psychiatric ward at The Queen Elizabeth Military Hospital in Woolwich, and I met several of them during my time in the burns and plastics unit. It was quite upsetting to see friends behaving really quite strangely, but, in hindsight, I think we were all acting oddly in our own way, whether that was excessive drinking or by challenging authority. My mother and father put up with my own various antics and helped support me.
Within two years, many of the Falkland veterans left the army – their mindset had changed. Of those who stayed, several went on to rise to very senior ranks.
