Glimpses of the Falklands War

An article from BMMHS’s “Glimpses of the Falklands War” (June 2022)

A day after the surrender at Goose Green, we woke to a light covering of snow as far as the eye could see, accompanied by the unceasing Falklands’ wind rarely below 30 kph during daylight hours. As I walked down from A Company’s defensive position on Darwin Hill to the settlement below — passing a sheep pen littered with empty shell cases from the enemy’s mortars, and an abandoned .50 machine-gun mounted on a Mercedes jeep — a man emerged from Darwin House and hailed me.

Brook Hardcastle — and his wife Eileen — had only just returned to their home after a month-long incarceration in Goose Green’s Community Hall. They wanted to know what they could do for my soldiers. It was a welcome opportunity to rotate my men through the settlement for a modicum of shelter and rest and was immediately set in train. Brook also extended an invitation for me to have supper with them that evening; since I knew that John Crosland (OC B Coy) planned to liaise later that afternoon, he too was invited.

Gathering local information is an opportunity never to be missed in war; this was the first occasion that I had met an Islander. At the time, Brook was the farms manager for the Falkland Islands Company — a considerable responsibility. Apart from learning a great deal about life on the Islands, two of his observations were of tactical interest: first, he described watching through binoculars as the Argentine forces lowered an observation hut by Chinook onto Mt Osborne prior to our landing. That explained how the Argentines had continued to bring effective artillery fire on the battalion after A Coy had captured Darwin Hill. Secondly, as we discussed the prospects for moving forward to our ultimate goal — the recapture of Port Stanley — he told us of the phone link between Swan Inlet House, fifteen miles to our East, and the settlement at Fitzroy, which would take us to within eighteen miles of Stanley.

Ron Binnie, manager in Fitzroy, would likely know current enemy locations.

Crosland determined to call on the brigade commander at the first available opportunity, proposing to lead an armed recce to establish the presence of Argentine troops on the southern approach to Stanley.

On 2nd June, B Coy’s recce force set off in three Scout helicopters armed with SS11 missiles. To exploit the situation, A Coy had been ordered to wait on the Goose Green helipad at one hour’s notice to move. The mission was clear: secure the settlement at Bluff Cove by heliborne assault. As to the enemy dispositions, Ron Binnie made clear to OC B that Argentine troops had recently left Fitzroy and Bluff Cove. What wasn’t clear was the enemy’s new location; whether they had withdrawn to the ring of hills around Port Stanley or remained within striking distance of the settlements was uncertain. A Coy, I determined, should prepare for a counter-attack at first light if not before.

Short of time, I gave orders to the whole company. Weary from a hard-fought battle, they were nonetheless keen to press on as winter secured its grip. We would get one lift only from the sole surviving Chinook, call-sign Bravo November. A key question for me was how many men it would lift. The acting CO’s concern was also to get an element of B Coy into Fitzroy before nightfall; they too would embark in a single lift, after our task was complete. The remainder of the battalion was to be ferried forward to the two settlements the following morning.

The RAF crew embraced the task. “Fill ‘em up, boss,” was the pilot’s response to my question. Eighty men in fighting order, including a mortar section, crammed into the back, while I squeezed in behind the pilot and navigator. We held our breath! Then, with a lurch or two, we took off, flanked by two Scout helicopters, flying nap-of-the-earth twenty-eight miles across no man’s land to our target. Unbeknown to us, a failure of communication between HQ 5 Brigade and HQ 3 Cdo Brigade meant that a fire mission was laid on our target, called off at the last moment when the accompanying Scout helicopters were spotted by a RM patrol.

Approaching the target, I saw the welcome LS marker provided by a team from 2 PARA’s Patrols who had deployed half an hour earlier. On the ground for a matter of seconds while we disembarked, the helicopters were quickly on their way back to Goose Green. In the silence that followed, with daylight fading, I confirmed defensive positions and arcs of fire with the platoon commanders, encouraging them to get going — conscious that the enemy would surely have spotted our arrival.

Leaving them to get on with it, I went to say hello to the Islanders who lived in Bluff Cove. A small boy rushed out to greet me. He informed me that it was his eighth birthday; he even told his parents he wouldn’t go to bed until the British Army arrived. “Well, that was lucky,” I replied, after wishing him a Happy Birthday. Without doubt, we had ‘arrived’ on a wing and a prayer!

Not long after, I met the Kilmartin family. Their proposal to me was astonishing, a kindness of an exceptional nature. Switching off a generator which ensured winter supplies of frozen food, they offered to feed A Company during that long night. Accordingly, in groups of four, my men ate their first fresh rations in nearly a fortnight.

While the night was uneventful — we dug and prepared our defensive position — the following morning saw the remainder of A Coy joining us, with D Coy flying two miles further up the road towards Stanley, only to be shelled by enemy 155 mm artillery. 2 PARA’s position was certainly precarious, once again devoid of artillery or effective all arms supporting fire — a challenge for the brigade commander. He resolved it by bringing fresh forces to relieve us at Bluff Cove, enabling 2 PARA to regroup for a day or two in the sheep-sheds at Fitzroy.

Copyright © 2022 Major General Dair Farrar-Hockley MC (OC A Coy, 2 PARA, ‘82)