The Argentine invasion of the Falklands Islands on 02 April 1982, now 43 years ago, was very personal to the Royal Marines. Not only because they put up the initial fighting defence but because the Corps had provided security detachments for the islands since 1965. Referred to as Naval Party 8901 each 30 man detachment received per-deployment training and usually served one year on the Islands. They were accommodated in a small barracks at Moody Brook west of Port Stanley, the main town and residence of the Island’s Governor. At the time of the invasion all Royal Marines knew where the islands actually were. Most people in the UK and a good proportion of the UK armed forces had absolutely no idea.

This blog is in diary format. I will add to the narrative in time with the duration of the conflict now 43 years ago.

It is perhaps difficult for military historians to reflect on the simple fact that actions in war can be confusing and unclear for those involved. Major occurrences might have little impact on you; yet other incidents that might never be broadly referred to might have a profound effect on individuals. Nobody see’s everything. Individual experiences can be undoubtedly shared, perhaps exactly by others around you but experiences are still very personal. As a Royal Marine at the time, this was my view of the Falkland’s campaign and that of my younger brother Adrian; in particular his experiences during the battle for Mount Harriet in June 1982.

We both held the rank of Marine in Plymouth based commando units. I was a 40 Commando RM, (pronounced forty); Adrian was in 42 Commando RM, (pronounced four-two).

Throughout the narrative I have tried to make accurate references to the actions we witnessed by naming warships, units, sub units, aircraft types, casualty numbers and sometimes individuals. During the campaign it was often days or weeks after an event I witnessed that I learned who and or what I saw. When we returned to the UK in July 1982 we went on immediate leave and my girlfriend and I went to the South of France. I bought one of the first books about the campaign written by two journalists. My girlfriend questioned why I would need to buy a book, because I was there. I explained that whilst indeed I was there and involved I only saw events from my perspective; I needed a broader view, I wanted to find out what happened.

At the end of this blog I will insert some footnotes and references pertaining to what I discovered after the conflict. Hopefully some of those features will help to answer some of the questions that still circulate to this day.

The immediate events leading up to the 1982 Falkland’s Campaign started on the islands of South Georgia in the South Atlantic when Argentinian scrap metal merchants landed apparently legitimately in Leith to dismantle an old whaling station on 19 March 1982. There were British Antarctic Survey personnel in Grytviken, just 20 miles away who apparently were expecting them. However, amongst the scrap dealers there were Argentine military personnel who were there to carry out military surveys ahead of a proposed plan by Argentina’s ruling military Junta to invade the entire island group.

This compromised and threatened South Georgia and the established and populated Falkland Islands. It was this embedded military group who allegedly raised an Argentine flag which stirred up a focus. The UK were learning through intelligence that something was afoot so HMS Endurance, the RN survey vessel which was patrolling in the region was dispatched to investigate. On board was a 22 man Royal Marine detachment led by Lt Keith Mills RM.

Signals were being passed from the UK to key personnel in the region which apart from HMS Endurance and various other patrolling warships included The Falkland Islands Governor Rex Hunt. They were simply advised that Argentina might be planning something significant.

Indeed they were.

The Falkland Islands were invaded by Argentine special forces on 01 April 1982 followed by the main body on 02 April 1982. The resident Royal Marines defence force, Naval Party 8901 81/82 was in the process of handing over and being relieved by the incoming detachment, NP8901 82/83. This totalled 68 officers and other ranks. In addition there were 11 Royal Naval personnel and 23 members of the Falkland Islands Defence Force. They would be facing an initial force of over 600 Argentine marines some of whom would be in armoured vehicles. Thousands of other troops were following.

Major Norman, the incumbent NP 8901 OC on being advised that a full scale Argentine amphibious invasion was about to take place took command and initially got his marines to vacate their barracks at Moody Brook, west of Port Stanley taking with them all weapons, ammunition and equipment stocks.

He then positioned a proportion of his force at strategic locations to observe the Argentine fleet and amphibious forces. The rest of his men were positioned at and close to Government House in Port Stanley. Once the Argentine forces landed the Royal Marines engaged them in fierce fire fights despite the overwhelming numbers. The defending Royal Marines suffered no casualties. The official casualty list on the Argentine side was one dead and six wounded. The Royal Marines dispute this, claiming a lot more Argentines were likely killed and wounded.

The island’s Governor, Rex Hunt eventually ordered his troops to stop fighting in order to safeguard the civilian population, the fragile island infrastructure and his entire defence force being wiped out. The following day Lt Mills and his detachment fought an action against an Argentine force that had invaded South Georgia. His men badly damaged an Argentine naval corvette, disabled two helicopters and caused casualties. Mills was eventually surrounded with no hope of escape. On that basis he surrendered his force who had suffered just one wounded.

The Argentines repatriated all of the Royal Marines involved in these actions back to the UK unconcerned that these men would be a vital source of intelligence. Within days they would be re-integrated amongst the Royal Marines units making up the task force. Argentina seemingly did not anticipate this let alone the fact that these men they had already fought against would return.

I was 26 and a member of Recce, (Reconnaissance), Troop, 40 Commando Group, Royal Marines, based in Seaton Barracks, Plymouth. One of our troop, Mne Steve Black, had not long departed us to join NP 8901 82/83, destined to arrive there at the end of March to take over. He had been married to a Falkland islander but was now divorced but he had children there. He was keen to return for that reason. Now after arriving and almost immediately getting into a battle with the invaders he was back home in the UK. His ex-wife and children were prisoners on the islands. You can only imagine how he felt.

My younger brother Adrian had not long finished his training at CTCRM, The Commando Training Centre, Royal Marines in Devon. He had then been drafted to his first choice, 42 Commando, also Plymouth based in Bickleigh Barracks just north of the city. Initially he was allocated to M Company just weeks before the invasion. As soon as it occurred M Coy were earmarked for an operation to retake the cold expanse of South Georgia. 42 Cdo was an artic trained unit but Adrian, fresh in, had not yet completed the specialist arctic warfare training in Norway. He was taken out of M Coy and joined J (Juliet), Coy a new composite rifle company which in fact also accommodated a lot of returned NP 8901 ranks.

Four of the repatriated NP 8901 ranks joined us in 40, they had all served in Recce Troops before. One of them was of course Steve Black. He arrived ahead of the other three and casually walked into the Troop office dressed in civvies carrying a small grip. All his uniform and personal kit had been taken off him on the islands. He had returned to the UK, bypassed all the debriefing, welfare protocols and draft processing and got a train to Plymouth. We all made a great fuss of him, the boss reintegrated him, signed the appropriate paperwork; he completed a unit joining routine and drew fresh kit. There was no outside media knowledge, national or local and certainly no clamour. The broader press, radio stations, newspapers and TV channels were struggling to understand what was happening. The story of these quiet heroes who just days before were in a desperate fight was remarkable and we just kept it in house.

I had joined Recce Troop after passing their internal selection course in June 1981. Recce Troops received para pay whilst in role and as I was already parachute trained I would qualify. However it was seen appropriate that I should go back to RAF Brize Norton for a two week refresher which would include a night jump. I happily joined a course half way through completion, most of the candidates being young Para’s fresh out of training and P Company. They were a great bunch of lads. They had completed their ground training and balloon jumps at RAF Hullavington. The RAF instructors assigned me twice as number one during the next phase of aircraft jumps. As an old 26 year old I think they saw me as a leading father figure. I often wondered if any of those young paratroopers I jumped with served down south in 2 or 3 Para. I suspect some did.

I had come from one of 40 Cdo’s three fighting companies. I had made some great friends in A, (Alpha) Coy, one in particular was Nick Fowler-Tutt. We had sourced a magnificent newly decorated attic studio apartment in Manamead, Plymouth not far from Seaton Barracks. Nick had joined Mortar Troop, also in Support Company. When we informed our pretty young landlady that we would be going away for a while she couldn’t quite take it in. She threw her arms around Nick and burst into tears. We still had to pay some rent in advance however.

PREPARATION

In the week following the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands the appointed units in 3 Commando Brigade made preparation for war. In Seaton Barracks we were busy. Single ranks living ashore were ordered to move back into camp. Nobody could make sense of that so we gave it a good ignoring. Keen to profit or procure extra kit marines were scouring the departments. One such facility that in normal circumstances would be quiet was the Equipment Repairers Workshop. Their small facility and counter were descended upon. I breezed in one morning but found myself behind a horde of ranks trying to obtain US style water bottle carriers, designer ammo pouches, helmet covers and DPM camouflage material. It was like the floor of a trading house. There was a single marine behind the counter trying to keep some order. He looked both surprised and slightly angered by the onslaught. I turned and walked away; I would try later, I didn’t want to add to his stress.

CANBERRA

After a hectic week of preparation 40 and 42 Commando along with 3 Para boarded the 45,000 – ton requisitioned P&O liner Canberra in Southampton. Other units within 3 Commando Brigade mounted up in other vessels from other parts of the country. We departed from Southampton on the evening of 09 April, Good Friday. It was somewhat surreal, huge crowds saw us off, there were car headlights flashing all the way down Southampton Water and from Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight when we reached The Solent. That evening was very relaxed on board, we ate, talked, drank and pondered the future. Into the Easter weekend the weather was calm and sunny. We were left to settle in and sort ourselves out. The training programmes would start on the Monday. It was a big logistical operation to allocate training time and space to the embarked force. Space required units to adhere to set training periods. Meanwhile there were still tradesman on board fitting the ship for the operation, the biggest process being the helicopter flight decks. It was amazing to see it happening.

Once the onboard training programmes started on the Monday we were running and speed marching around the decks. We completed circuits, weapon training, first aid, aircraft recognition. We paid great attention to signals and intelligence briefs and had discussion periods. Our six, four man sections were finalised, there had to be some adjustment with the addition of our four NP8901 colleagues joining us. My section, 61A comprised the Section Commander, Cpl Chris Scofield, a wiry, blunt, sharp witted Mancunian. He was a sniper and carried a scoped L42. Mne James Trolland, another slightly built but hard character was a Glaswegian. Jock carried our GPMG and he’d acquired a 9mm Browning pistol. Our NP 8901 addition was Mne Marcus Bennett. Benny was a young good humoured lad, rather laconic in some respects with a good eye for detail. He carried an SLR. He had already been in a fight with the Argentine invaders, wasn’t overly impressed or concerned and was keen to go back. Then myself, I was the section 2i/c and Radio Operator and carried the PRC 320 HF radio along with the antenna kit, the large rechargeable battery and the wind up charger. Two of the others carried spare batteries. As well as my own personal kit I carried an SLR. In addition to the six field sections there was an HQ section which included the boss. He was under the direct command of the unit C.O. who personally directed him. We were the C.O.’s eyes and ears on the ground and he was going to use us for just that.

At this early stage we didn’t know what was going to happen; in fact nobody did, not even the politicians and senior military leaders. It was the diplomatic and negotiation stage, pressure from the UN on Argentina. Problem was there were countries in support of the Argentinian invasion and other nations who sat on the fence which could only inspire them to dig deeper trenches.

ESTABLISHED AT SEA – SOUTH

I was spending some evenings with Adrian my brother; I had resorted to sleeping in a vacant bunk in his two man cabin in the 42 Cdo accommodation area. At this stage we really didn’t know what was going to happen. The diplomatic efforts were optimistic and it was felt that the determination and realisation of the Task Force might be enough to influence Argentina into rethinking their objective. From our perspective we had to consider the worst case scenario. During the First World War our family on our father’s side had lost two brothers, his uncles. Albert at the battle of Loos in 1915 and Ernest on the Somme in 1916. I dreaded the thought of history repeating itself, not just for us but for the family. If we landed, our respective units would be tasked and we would be unlikely to see each other. Time spent together now was important and precious.

Into the tropics, the weather got warmer, a complete contrast to what we would encounter further south. We came alongside in Freetown, Sierra Leone for fuel, stores and mail exchange. We were moored next to a BP refinery for just part of a day. Locals in their wooden canoes appeared along with an expensive looking power boat crewed by a couple of young men who we surmised were oil company employees. With them were two young ladies, scantily attired in the heat. One of the chaps hailed up at the hundreds of soldiers lining the rails, wishing us good luck while his mate steering their craft was beaming and waving. To their horror they were met with a torrent of abuse followed by demands directed at their rather attractive girlfriends to remove their clothing. It was both shocking and hilarious to witness. Poor buggers, they were so naïve.