Falklands Memories

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The Conflict - Outline Diary of Events

3rd Battalion Parachute Regiment (Battle for Mt Longdon)

Andrew Ball's Story

Charles Oxley's time on Uganda

Don Cole's Story

Uganda - "Today's Arrangements" - 31st Dec 84 - 24th Jan 85

Wavelength Account

Outline Diary of Events

Courtesy of Charles Oxley

This outlines the campaign.

3rd Battalion Parachute Regiment

The following describes the entire account of the Battle for Mount Longdon on the 11th and 12th June 1982 including at the end a citation for the Victoria Cross and 24 other Honours and Awards for Bravery that happened in those 2 days.

Courtesy of Charles Oxley

Andrew Ball's Story

I was just waiting for the video to load of Canberra’s return from the Falklands and it reminded me that I was on the quayside waiting to join ship and take over from the Heroes! What a day, thousands on the quayside watching her come in. The one and only time I ever joined a ship in uniform! Whilst the fighting was going on, someone in the “powers-that-be” decided that the QE2 was too sensitive a target and the loss of morale if it was sunk would be disastrous, so the Canberra met up with the QE2, I think at South Georgia, but certainly miles away from the fighting, and all the troops on the QE2 transferred to the Canberra, which then went straight back into “bomb alley” to land the QE2’s troops having already landed their own. This didn’t go down very well with those involved, there were certainly rumours that Cunard had been whispering in the Government’s ear to bring it about. The BBC actually filmed one of the sheets hanging over the Canberra’s side at the homecoming, it read “Canberra cruises were QE2 refuses” and was entirely organised by the armed forces to show their support for our lads.

There was a similar scene a few days later when the Uganda returned. The Ghurkhas all looked fairly stoic as the ship came in, obviously convincing themselves that the crowds had turned out for the QARNS (Queen Alexandra Royal Nursing Service) and the others on board. But when they were the first to disembark, and the first Ghurkha’s foot hit the concrete at the shore end of the gangway and a massive cheer went up, they were forced to admit we were all there for them too and I swear they were all fighting back tears of emotion at this public proof of the high regard the British people held them in.

On a lighter note, once the Canberra had completed its refit, we set sail for the Med on the first cruise, and after calling at Naples, a large contingent of the deck department went ashore for a meal, on the way back to the ship they tried to get a Taxi, the next thing the Taxi swerved across the road to 2 police cars, the driver jumped out and told the police they were trying to steal his car. They were all arrested, and we eventually sailed without them. The entire deck department consisted of Captain, Deputy Captain, a second mate and a third mate I think! We got a new box-full of deck officers flown out a few days later, and the originals were eventually released when the British consul persuaded them to sign confessions!

Charles Oxley's time on Uganda

Courtesy of Charles Oxley

Canberra's involvement in the Falklands Conflict as seen and told first hand by Don Cole.

These are my memories of things that happened 25 years ago as part of the Falkland's Task Force. Some of the details are a bit hazy now, others still crystal clear in my mind. If I have got some things wrong then I apologise.

In 1982 I was employed by P&O Cruises as a Second Electrical Officer serving on board the Canberra. I joined her in Southampton in January after being on leave at home over Christmas and we set off away from the cold British winter on the annual Canberra World Cruise which had been trouble free. On the final leg of the trip, after leaving Athens, news broke of the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands, a place I'd never even heard of before but an event that would leave a lasting impression on my life.

As we steamed across the Mediterranean Sea everything seemed normal until we approached Gibraltar when we were told to "slow down" to pick up some "passengers". I was on deck at that time and witnessed a small inflatable dingy come alongside and a number of Military Staff embark up the pilot ladder and away we went. They were the first of many to come.

The next day we were briefed by Canberra's Captain Scott-Masson and a Royal Navy Captain Burns, who was one of the ones that had joined us in Gibraltar. We were told that the ship was being taken from service and placed under the control of the RN Captain in preparation for the transportation of British Military Troops to the Falklands Islands. The passengers on board were told later the same day and the mood on the ship changed that day. A certain amount of "let's go and get em" emerged amongst the crew. One guy had a T-shirt printed with "Falkland's Task Force 82" on the front and "The Empire Strikes Back" on the reverse. We were told we would be asked to volunteer to make the trip, no one was forced to go, we would have to sign on under a different set of rules that apply in a war scenario. War, yes it dawned on me that was what I was getting into.

After arrival in Southampton I phoned home to let my parents know what was happening. I totally misjudged the mood at home, my mother had heard the news about Canberra and had spend a couple of sleepless nights worrying about what was going to happen and was a bit dismayed when I said I'd volunteered to go. At that time I didn't see the danger but later, after reading the stories in the press, my mind was focused on what lay ahead of us in the grey cold South Atlantic Ocean.

Back on watch in the afternoon, I was on 12-4, I remember reading a typical jingoistic piece in the Sun about what the British Military had under its command. We seemed to be OK for just about everything, if a little light on numbers of troops available as the Argentineans had a large force in excess of 10,000 on the Falklands. Canberra was to embark just one battalion of around 2000 men.

More worrying to me personally was the news that the Argentine Navy had some fairly useful ships including submarines which I think a lot of merchant navy crew feared the most. I'd worked on many subs during my apprenticeship at Vickers in Barrow and knew what submarines and torpedoes are capable of and as I would be spending much of the time "down below" on the main switchboard twenty feet below the waterline, I was a little worried to say the least.

Preparation for turning Canberra into a lean mean fighting machine included the drilling of holes in the ship's rails where passengers had lent against a week or so ago which now sported heavy machine guns for ship's defence, conversion of the midships swimming pool area into what would become the midships flight deck for helicopters to land and take off and also another smaller Helideck on the forward end of the ship. We all helped with the conversions which included some very clever use of a lift shaft to enable the ship to refuel as sea (RAS), I think I am correct in saying that Canberra was the first cruise liner to do this before or since the conflict.

In the blink of an eye we where ready to embark troops. We took two companies, 40 and 42 Royal Marines, and the 3rd Battalion of the Parachute Regiment. We slipped out of port on a chilly April evening with very little pomp, save for the band of the Royal Marines which would be in marked contrast to our return three months later.

We embarked the first of many helicopters from RAF Coldrose on the passage down the English Channel. We had our own attachment of a naval party also. Much to our dismay our watering hole, the Officers Wardroom, was turned into the operations room for people joining and leaving the ship via helicopters but we were to be kept alive by a shared military and MN Officers bar that a few days ago had been the opulent piano bar known as the Crows Nest. The term bar was also very appropriate as there where a lot of steel ones in there to support the forward flight deck above. So you had to be careful after a night in the bar that you didn't end up walking into one although you may not have felt it.

Quickly the ship settled into a routine of work, beer and bed for most of us. The troops did small arms training shooting bin bags floating away from the galley dump each day and lectures on survival techniques and the best way to cut a sheep's throat (there where a lot of sheep on the Falklands). They kept fit by running mile after mile around the promenade deck which was normally used by passengers walking off lunch.

There was a bit of rivalry between the Marines and the Paras which was evident and to prove who was the best and also let off a bit of steam a sports day was arranged as we steamed south. We still had some Vosper's ship workers onboard welding the supports of the flight decks and they were due to fly home from Sierra Leone in West Africa which would be our first refuelling stop on the way south. Sports day involved lots of grunting and groaning with tug of war and a 10k race which was to be around the Prom Deck. The race was open to all onboard and the finest athletes from all services were there plus one "Frank the Laundry Man" who was our secret weapon. Frank was an excellent distance runner who did marathons for fun. Frank stormed the race and left all the embarked forces in his wake … excellent stuff.

After saying goodbye to our Vosper's workers in Sierra Leone we sailed over the Equator into the Southern Hemisphere to the Ascension Islands, a group of island in mid Atlantic owned by the Americans. We spent what seemed like a lifetime at anchor there with no news as to what was going on. It became very boring and everyone on board wanted to get on with it and get home.

It was at Ascension when I saw HMS Sheffield for the last time. It was not the first time I'd seen her. She was a type 42 destroyer, she was build at Barrow by me and a few others in the late 70's, and I'd even been on sea trails with her. She was my first time at sea and the reason I was inspired to seek a career at sea. I remember standing on her aft mooring deck during speed trials in the firth of fourth in Scotland seeing nothing but a wall of white foaming water all around the aft end as she hit full speed with her gas turbines screaming away at full power. She was later destroyed west of the Falklands by something we all came to fear, the Exocet Missile.

We eventually slipped away from Ascension and we were finally on our way, but to what? The clear warm sky gave way to the grey of the South Atlantic in mid winter. The seas became rougher and the battle group formed together. We were a mixture of ships from all areas of service. As a large white cruise liner which had not had time to be camouflaged we were a good target to aim at as she was not a hospital ship and was considered a legitimate target carrying most of the landing force. There was a red and white ferry, MV Norland, carrying the troops of the 2nd Paras and there was also the Atlantic Conveyor which, not much later, became another to fall victim to an Exocet. We had a destroyer escort fore and aft and although we didn't know it at the time we had another of Barrow's finest close by, a submarine was with us as we ploughed south through the huge seas and rain. I was told later by one of it's crew that it was HMS Spartan which if I'd known about I would have felt a lot better and not as alone as we appeared to be.

In the cold of the South Atlantic one of our helicopters developed a starting problem which was causing some concern as it was needed for flying operations. As luck would have it our Engineers were a dab hand at starting troublesome lifeboat engines and came to the rescue with a tin of two of "Easy Start" which when sprayed into the engine air intakes did the trick.

Our only link to reality was the BBC World Service broadcast through the ship's internal entertainment system direct into our cabins. Every hour we could catch up with this world event that we were a part of. How strange it was to hear about the ship I was on mentioned in the news.

We had a few scares going south as we were called to alert stations on many occasions as an enemy threat was detected. We went to alert stations with RN style inflatable life jackets around our waist that where much better than the normal bulky orange Board of Trade standard life jacket that gave you the same profile as an American football player and made it difficult to move along narrow passageways. Gas masks had to be carried at all times in an alert too.

In the days before the landings we were all asked to give blood to support the battles ahead. How could anyone say no? It was the least we could do and I think it made us all feel even more part of a team.

At 22.00 hrs on the evening of 20th May (winter in the Falklands) we went to full alert. We were about to enter Falkland Sound, a channel between west and east Falkland. This was it. What lay ahead? Would we be blasted out of the water as we entered the Sound? The ship was totally blacked out. We'd spent days going around the ship isolating all external lighting circuits in readiness for this moment.

I was on the main switchboard during the arrival in the Sound keeping an eye on the ship's load as she was driven and manoeuvred by huge electric propulsion motors and if we'd lost electrical power at this stage there would be no landings on that day in May but Canberra was a very well maintained ship and a testament born out by the number of miles she did during the Falklands conflict meeting all the demands placed upon her without a single failure.

By 05:00 on the 21st May we received the order "Finished with Engines" but still on immediate standby. We were in San Carlos Water Beach Head, still in one piece having not been hit by anything … yet. I remember looking out of a port hole and seeing landing craft with troops leaving for the shore a few hundred yards away and up to the galley area there were fully laden troops with real weapons being disembarked onto landing craft from the aptly named galley gun port doors. Unreal … someone pinch me.

I can't remember much about the look on the troop's faces, they must have been scared, who wouldn't have been but everything did seem to be going OK and still no sight or sound of any Argentine action…not yet. All seamed very quiet. Did they know we were here? They knew all right.

I went up to my cabin at around 07:00 and top side was very busy with the military machine in full swing. As is customary when entering a new port a couple of us went out on deck for a look. We were dressed in our white boiler suits and we'd only taken a few steps onto the open flight deck when we were told by the flight deck officer that we would make an easy target for an enemy sniper dressed in white which was a good point well delivered. We quickly went back inside again. Even before having time for some breakfast the alert went again. "enemy planes approaching take cover" … Jesus, here we go! I scampered down below again and was back on the main switch board ready for a quick get away if needed. We were going nowhere, we still had troops on board, no chance. By 09:00, even through the noise of the generators and my ear defenders I could hear sounds of what seemed to be like a dull thud, then another, and another and finally a smell came down the air vents that I will always remember … cordite from the exploding bombs.

I was relieved from my station by lunch time by another electrical officer. I was tired and hungry having been up all night so went up to the restaurant looking for some food. There was nothing but a few others hanging around. It was a daft thing to do really, who would be cooking meals at a time like this. I made my way along to the aft mooring deck to sneak a look "over the wall" and to try and get some air to wake myself up a bit. There were helicopters flying all around the bay. I could see smoke from HMS Ardent that had received a pounding from the Argentine Air Force. I was only there a few minutes when from over a hill I saw a small piston engine plane, a Pucara ground attack aircraft, come over the hill with tracer fire from our defences streaking towards it. It was time to get back inside.

On my way back to the restaurant, where the engineers were supposed to gather when not on watch as it was low in the ship and thought to be safe and handy for the engine room, I saw the survivors from HMS Ardent and other ships that had been hit coming onboard. These were the walking wounded, guy's in shock, blackened faces from the smoke filled ships that they'd tried to defend, images that I can still remember even today 25 years on. They spent a few days onboard wondering around feeling helpless with no purpose dressed in white boiler suits as they had nothing else to wear, as all their belongings had been lost on their ships. You have to witness these things first hand to really get an idea what it was really like.

It was a long, long day in Falkland Sound. We later learned we'd been very lucky to escape on Canberra as an Exocet had been fired at us from an Argentine position overlooking the Sound which had been destroyed in flight by a British Destroyer …boy do I owe those guy's a beer.

I remember being in my cabin at around tea time listening to our friendly news service from the BBC and getting an update from London on the events that were taking place right outside my cabin window … strange feeling that.

By dusk we were on the move again, Canberra was to up anchor and exit Falkland Sound. Was that it then? Had we done our bit and delivered the Task Force safely? Could we be heading home now? Not a bit of it. We were to head to a holding area 20 miles off East Falkland and wait for orders. It was great to be away from bomb alley as it was dubbed but now we were to literally sail around and around inside an imaginary box until needed. This was a very low part of the whole trip. At least when we were in Ascension you could get ashore and it was warm and sunny each day, this was cold and grey. Nothing for weeks only the BBC news which had started to mention less and less the events we were in as the weeks past. Has everyone forgotten us?

Something to do at last. Canberra was to head for South Georgia (where?). Did they mean in the southern United States? That would be great. No, this South Georgia was another "bunch of ice cold islands" as President Ronnie Reagan, I think it was, had called the Falklands. We were to meet up with the QE2 and bring some more troops back to the beach head at San Carlos. Why us? Why could the QE2 not go in and deliver the troops? We've done it once, were the thoughts generally running through the ship at the time. Just get on with it was the reply, we can't afford to loose the famous Queen Elizabeth. Many weeks later we were to be given a vote of thanks from the Marines on board who'd made a huge sign and hung it on the side of the ship as we steamed up Southampton water. It read "P&O Cruises were QE2 Refuses, many thanks from 42 RM Commando Brg" that meant more to us than anything.

So, a not so happy bunch of bunnies set off again. More adventures. Enough for one lifetime for sure. We met up with QE2 in an ice cold bay covered in snow where the Scott's and Welsh Guards embarked and off we went again back to more of the same in bomb ally. Maybe I should have listened to my mother and not volunteered at all.

We re-entered San Carlos Bay and dropped anchor. We're back, have another go if you want. Nothing, not even a single shot fired the second time around. We dropped the troops off again. This is getting too easy, piece of cake for veteran troop transporters like us. No job too small … give us a call.

Then we were back off to our favourite place again, the dreaded holding area called the Trala I seem to recall. More going round and around and around. We were used as a R&R ship and received a few individuals that needed a hot shower and a good feed, a night in a clean bed and maybe a beer. I remember a couple of guys came off a helicopter and passed me in the passageway, one carrying a none regular issue riffle, not regular troops, the SAS were here!

Great news … it's all over … they've surrendered, your joking, is that right? Couldn't believe it, we could be home in a couple of weeks at full speed … lets go. Not yet you lot we've one last choice job for you, sail to Port Stanley, collect a few hundred POW's and deliver them to Argentina (into the lion's den) and then nip back pick up our lads and then off you go. Well the MOD are certainly getting value for money on this cruise.

So off we went to collect the new passengers from Port Stanley and set off for Argentina. On that trip we passed the P&O ship ss Uganda (my first) north of the Falklands. She was being used as a hospital ship. That was the last time I ever saw her. After a couple of days at full speed we were at Porto Madrin that had been selected for it's deep water jetty that Canberra could go alongside. As we approached we were met by a sister ship of the doomed HMS Sheffield another type 42 destroyer the Santisima Trinidad that Vickers Shipbuilder's of Barrow had helped built for the Argentine Navy when we were on better terms with them back in the 70's.

The Argentine POW's, who it must be said were mostly glad to be out of it and going home. Some were however not so happy about being captured and made it quite clear what they felt about being on this one way cruise to Porto Madrin in Argentina. They were striped of all the uniform and any weapons as a few had managed to hold onto the odd colt 45 and knives. Piles of American style helmets lay on the decks. The prisoners were shepherded down for a shower as they smelt strongly of wet peat and were then given a hot meal which must have tasted great after months on the islands. The majority slept in the large public rooms on Canberra, and NCOs' and officers in cabins.

We had to be accompanied by a British Army escort if we had to enter any area where the POW's were which was a bit scary. Finally, after being washed, fed and watered, the prisoners were disembarked and were very glad to be home which is more than can be said for the stern faced army officers that accepted the transfer from the British army officers and the international red cross.

I had an uneasy feeling as we left. The Santisima Trinidad escorted us out of Argentine waters and knowing what she was capable of unleashing upon us if she wanted to made me very uneasy. A single Sea Dart could have finished us off as a parting gesture from the military junta.

Homeward bound at last. We had some of our old friends, the Royal Marines back on board, we didn't get the Paras back for the return trip as they'd joined up with 2 Para and would go home on another ship which was a shame. The cruise back home eventually started to feel like a cruise as we hit the tropics where most of the troops were able to get a bit of sun and lay around on the flight deck in there hundreds. Our workshop was located on what was named the Sun deck and we used to have a job getting through the sea of bodies, a bit like a British beach on a hot bank holiday weekend. The troops took over the public room aft and were allowed the odd beer or ten to relax a bit.

One night the watch keeping electrical officer was called out to free some "Passengers" trapped in a lift which was over loaded and had tripped out. Once the doors were opened twenty Royal Marines spilled out of the lift that was designed to carry twelve.

The Royal Marines had embarked with their bandsmen who acted as stretcher bearers in the fighting and now reverted to what they did best and put on one of the most memorable events of the whole trip for me. The ceremony of "beating the retreat", which must have so much history and is very appropriate as we were heading away from all that had gone before. On a balmy summers evening steaming across the Bay of Biscay with a fabulous sunset on the port bow, the band of the Royal Marines treated all on board to the most moving open air concert ever concluding with the "Last Post" played by a solo bugle player … Marvellous memories.

The following afternoon we were steaming up the English Channel, this time in the right direction, we were almost home. Just as dusk fell we sailed into Plymouth Bay, the home base of the marines, and steamed around the bay with Canberra's whistle sounding a deep hello and the distant sound of cheering and car horns sounding and headlights flashing from the headland. So very moving for me to recall. And in the morning we would arrive at Southampton, home at last. What a day that proved to be!

I'd been on the 12-4 watch and had been busy making a large banner to hang over the side of the ship. It was made from some green ground sheets that someone had acquired and we'd painted on it "P&O Engineers Move You". It later got blown away as it was being deployed by our boiler room fourth who'd almost gone with it as a gust of wind took it away down the Solent.

Arrival off the Isle of White was very misty but had given way to a very pleasant June morning. We'd already picked up a few pleasure boats that had come out to greet Canberra and as we steamed up the Solent the numbers just grew and grew.

I'd showered and dressed in full Blues as a few of us, not on watch or stand by, had been invited to meet HRH Prince Charles who was due to fly on board as he was the the commandant of the Royal Marines. When I arrived in the large public room where the presentation was to be held it was somewhat over subscribed so I decided to give it a miss and went up on deck. This was where the real celebrations of our home coming was to be and I didn't want to miss a moment of it.

It would be fair to say, and photos of the ship taken on that day support this, that the entire complement of military and merchant crew had the same idea and were all on the starboard side of the ship which caused quite a list to starboard which had to be corrected by the engineers ballasting the ship. I found a gap in a line of crew and wedged myself in and witnessed a truly amazing welcome home anyone could ever imagine.

There was hardly any space between the mass of large and small craft milling around the ship as we edged ever closer to Canberra's berth, her home. The gangways went down and it was time to find loved ones amongst the thousands of faces that had turned up to welcome home their Sons, Daughters, Husbands, Boyfriends and Dads.

That was 25 years ago. Writing this it seems like yesterday. This is the first time I've downloaded my memories of those three short months in 1982 onto paper and I'm glad to have done so and also glad to have been a part of history, as is the Canberra.

Don Cole. Ex 2nd Electrical Officer ss Canberra.

Uganda - "Today's Arrangements"

31st Dec 84 - 24th Jan 85

Courtesy of Charles Oxley

The Wavelength Account

The following files are individual pages of the Falklands Special Edition of the Wavelength printed in August/September 1982 - Issue No 120 kindly sent in by Dave Jewkes. You will need Adobe Reader to view these files which can be downloaded here.

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