Retaking the Falklands wa S a ‘damn near-run thing’
Ahead of next week’s 40th anniversary of the Argentine invasion, a dramatic new documentary reveals just how close Margaret Thatcher’s gamble came to disaster... before ultimately turning round Britain’s fortunes
ON THE morning of April 2, 1982, the nation woke up to the news that enemy forces had invaded a bunch of British islands few had ever heard of. Even those who knew of their existence would be hard put to find them on a map. The reaction of Paratrooper Sulle Alhaji was typical. When a driver arrived at his quarters and told him to report for duty because the Argentinians had seized the Falklands he replied: “But why would they attack Scotland?”
At first the idea the UK would be called on to fight a war over a scrap of territory left over from the days of Empire seemed more than a little surreal. But a few short days later British warships were on their way south.
And on April 9, in a scene straight out of a Rudyard Kipling story, crowds waving Union Jacks and brandishing placards declaring “Give the Argies some Bargie!” gave an emotional farewell to thousands of Paras and Commandos crammed onto the requisitioned cruise liner Canberra.
Thus began an extraordinary episode in British history, codenamed Operation Corporate.
It ended in a famous victory. But as the new documentary I have made with producer/director Harvey
Lilley – Falklands War: The
Untold Story – makes clear tomorrow night, the result was, as the Duke of Wellington said of Waterloo,
“a damn near-run thing”.
Launching a task force 8,000 miles across stormy seas was contrary to all military common sense.
Indeed, the Army was not keen and a US intelligence assessment judged the recapture of the islands by Britain an impossibility.
What changed the narrative was when First Sea Lord Sir Henry Leach – resplendent in his gold braid-trimmed uniform – told Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher that the Navy were confident they could pull it off.
Britain not only could go to war, he said, it should.With that she gave the order to sail.
The gamble paid off – but only just. The Argentinians had more than twice as many attack jets as the Task Force.
Some were equipped with Exocet missiles, one of which hit the guided missile destroyer HMS Sheffield on May 4, sending a shudder through the fleet. Sheffield sank under tow six days later. When the landings went ahead on May 21 at San Carlos Water in East Falkland, six ships were hit but mercifully all the troops got ashore safely.
The odds were evened up somewhat by a secret intervention revealed in our film.
The Chilean dictator General Pinochet offered to pass on radar reports of aircraft movements from Argentine military bases. Wing Commander Sid Edwards tells how he was plucked out of the Ministry of Defence sales department and entrusted with a cloak-and-dagger mission to liaise with the Chilean air force.
He passed the radar intel on to the Task Force via an SAS team equipped with satellite communications, thereby enabling Fleet Air Arm and RAF Harriers to intercept incoming attacks.
Top Task Force commanders speak frankly about how their difficulties were compounded by a “dysfunctional” command structure, which led to confusion.
They are also critical of an unexpected change of plan.
The 5,000 men of 5 Infantry Brigade who set sail from Britain on May 12 were originally intended to hold the rear area while the Paras and Commandos pressed on with capturing the capital Port Stanley. Instead they joined the attack, placing a huge strain on resources already stretched to breaking point by the loss of the supply ship Atlantic Conveyor, sunk with many much-needed helicopters aboard.
Some claim this decision led directly to the biggest British tragedy of the war.With no helicopters to carry them forward some troops had to go by ship.
On June 8, landing ships Sir Galahad and Sir Tristram were caught in broad daylight by Argentinian jets near Bluff Cove. All together 56 men died in the attacks, including 32 Welsh Guards. The documentary has a personal significance for me. I was a 29-year-old reporter who sailed with the task force as an official war correspondent.
I remember vividly standing at the rails of the cruise liner Canberra as she left Southampton Water while the bands played and the crowds cheered, realising that this was history in the making.
Britain then was not in a good place. Unemployment was high, morale was low and our ranking in the world order was slipping rapidly.
But the “Booties” and “Toms’”– as we came to know the Marines and Paras – seemed to share none of the national gloom. They were looking forward to showing the world their worth. And their optimism and can-do attitude were mighty appealing.
On the way down south, we civvies came to appreciate the character and values of the Armed Forces who were largely invisible in 1980s Britain, except for in Northern Ireland where they were embroiled in a scrappy, lowtempo conflict.
We were particularly grateful for their inextinguishable good spirits and unfailing sense of humour.
I remember being on deck in San Carlos Water as Argentinian jets flashed past at mast height leaving burning ships in their wake.
I was wearing a white anti-flash hood supposed
‘Launching a task force 8,000 miles across stormy seas was contrary to military common sense’
to prevent burns from explosions. “You’re wasting your time with that,” said a sailor. “This ship’s crammed with ammo. If it gets hit what you’ll need is an effing parachute!”
Once ashore I met my first Falklanders.
Suddenly the abstract issues that the war had been fought over – the right of selfdetermination and the necessity to stand up for small territories being coerced by bullying neighbours – took on human form.
THE islanders were reserved and did not do noisy displays of emotion. But that just made their quiet gratitude to those who had come to their rescue seem all the more profound.
It was a long way to go, but the parallel with what is happening today in Ukraine is strong – as is the moral duty to do everything in our power to repel the aggressor.
For the next 24 days after landing, I lived alongside the soldiers, usually wet and cold, often frightened but always secure in the knowledge that the guys had my back.
It gave me an affection for the military that will last until my dying day.
They seemed to represent values that had disappeared from the Britain of those days. In fact, they were merely obscured by the defeatist fog that seemed to hang over the country. Following the victory on June 14, these virtues were once again on display.
We returned to a nation transformed. There was a spring in our step, put there by the exploits of the Army, Navy and Air Force. They were the sons – and a few brave daughters – of a section of Britain that had been overlooked and condescended to by the political establishment for decades.
Now they were front and centre of our national life, their values encapsulated by Mrs Thatcher who had been reborn – for good and for bad – as the Iron Lady.
In making his argument to the Prime Minister, the Royal Navy’s rather inspirational Sir Henry Leach said Britain should go to war because, “If we do not, in another few months we shall be living in a different country whose word counts for little.”
He was correct.
If the FalklandsWar had not been fought – or we had lost it – Britain would be a very different place to the one we know now.
It was a hinge moment in our history. And we should be forever grateful that it swung on the side of right.
‘If the war had not been fought, Britain would be a very different place to the one we know now’
●●Falklands War: The Untold Story is on Channel 4 tomorrow night at 9pm