Scram! (31 page)

After all the nerves and fears about what might have been, the day turned out well. The new arrivals were able to get most of the Wessex and the four Sea Kings safely off the ship without incident.
Causeway
sailed back out to sea with eight Wessex left on board as a reserve. A very relieved Lieutenant Ralph Miles and Sub-Lieutenant Jerry Thomas and Leading Aircrewman Martin Moreby also joined the influx of crews that day. Originally sent down on MV
Norland
as passengers, it was their third visit to the Falklands. At last they now had aircraft to fly.

With thirty helicopters operating out of Port San Carlos, overcrowding was going to be a real problem. The Sea King new arrivals sensibly moved around the corner of the bay the next day to base themselves at San Carlos, leaving the Wessex and Chinook.

Jack Lomas found himself in charge of what amounted to an entire Wessex squadron of nineteen helicopters and twenty-five aircrew. For the first time since the landings, groups of Wessex could be allocated to units on the ground or even to lift an entire battalion into action.

The only Argentine air activity that day involved an unfortunate C-130 Hercules, intercepted and shot down north of Pebble Island by a Sea Harrier flown by 801 Squadron's Sharkey Ward. Apart from a couple of ineffective bombing runs by Argentine Canberras on the Mount Kent area, there were no other daytime air raids on San Carlos that day, or indeed for the next few days.

Setting up camp required a great deal of ingenuity and making-do. Some of the aircrew found spaces to sleep in the settlement buildings. The engineers found an outbuilding in which to keep their books and tools organised and dry. The Royal Marine cook improvised using rocket boxes for his field kitchen. Other aircrew and most of the
engineers
stayed in tents. With so much flying to sort out, an operations and briefing tent was also set up.

Some new arrivals used more ingenuity than others. Bill Tuttey and his fellow aircrewman Petty Officer Jed Clamp didn't fancy setting up their own tent. A glance at a nearby tent spattered with chicken supreme confirmed it would be best to find somebody who knew what they were doing. They headed instead for a smart-looking tent nearby. The two Royal Marine stores sergeants inside were quick to invite them in. Tuttey and Clamp merely wanted to know where they could store thirty bottles of assorted spirits landed from
Atlantic Causeway
.

Aircrew were quick to take advantage of their ability to transport goods to keep the squadron fed. Pilots Sparky Harden and Ric Fox simply helped themselves to a pallet full of ration packs from the Brigade Maintenance Area at Ajax Bay one afternoon. Aircrew were masters at persuading stores managers to part with other goods. There were also other ways when persuasion didn't work.

On the way south, Bill Tuttey had noticed a large cage deep in the bowels of
Atlantic Causeway
's vast interior that was full to the brim with boxes of Mars bars. The stores chief on
Causeway
was adamant that the chocolate ‘nutty' was to remain locked away. It would return to Plymouth in the absence of any documented destination. The Mars bars were most likely a gift from a corporate well-wisher. It seemed ungrateful to send them back home.

Just before
Causeway
sailed back out to sea, Peter Hails and Bill Tuttey shut their Wessex down on the big foredeck and wandered casually down below. They felt it best not to draw attention to the large bolt croppers they had signed out from the aircraft maintainers, after promising to return them with interest. Several trips up and down
the
stairs later, the helicopter returned to Port San Carlos loaded with 15,000 Mars bars.

As well as treating themselves to the occasional Mars bar, Wessex crews were able to make themselves very popular with troops on the ground. The freezing and remote Rapier air defence missile sites surrounding San Carlos were especially grateful for their box gifts. There was no shortage of food or ‘nutty'.

Nor did their sister squadrons miss out. One of the
junglie
Sea Kings had been lifting a pallet-load of Mars bars, this time donated by NAAFI, from one of the stores ships in the bay. The load started swinging from side to side underneath the helicopter. Eventually the swing got so bad that the load had to be jettisoned. Fortunately they were now over land. The pallet plummeted out of the air and landed on an otherwise unremarkable patch of Falklands grass. With resources stretched so thin, there seemed little point in flying out a new pallet and repacking the load. The ‘nutty mountain' was left where it had fallen. However, Bill Pollock made sure all his Sea King crews were given the grid reference so that they could stop for refreshments. The labels on the boxes showed that the ‘donated' Mars bars were out of date. But they tasted just fine.

Not all of the new arrivals were happy campers. Although the decision to keep the Wessex close in together at night turned out to be a deliberate one, it was clear that some operating practices had definitely slipped. With no flying possible during the long nights, aircrew were happy to drink and play spirited games in the great
junglie
peacetime tradition. However, this was war.

Of far greater concern was the routine use of too much power in the air. In their understandable enthusiasm to
get
desperately needed ammunition to the guns as quickly as possible, aircrew had noticed that they could physically lift an extra layer of shells in an underslung pallet load if they were prepared to pull more power than was usually allowed. One of the great strengths of the Wessex was that it could fly a medium payload on only one engine. With both engines running, the power limitation was usually the torque that could be applied to the transmission. Too much torque meant overstressing the helicopter drive shafts and gearbox. And nobody knew how much of this punishment the Wessex would take before it all broke and a helicopter simply dropped out of the sky.

Junglie
aircrew were living in tolerable, if spartan, conditions. However, it was a completely different story for the troops advancing across the northern flank of East Falkland.

Most of the work for the newly enlarged fleet of support helicopters in the early days of June was necessarily focused on supporting 45 Commando and 3 Para. Both units had endured appalling conditions to march in long lines across miles of streams and bogs carrying enormous 80-pound bergens on their backs and weapons in their hands. As well as the physical endurance, they had to cope with the mental strain of when and where they would encounter enemy troops or enemy aircraft. In fact they encountered neither. The epic yomp, or tab, was an extraordinary feat. But it also took its toll, injuring Royal Marines and Paras alike. Every soldier fought their own private battles with wet and blistered feet, aching and strained shoulders, and the icy cold and wind of the Falklands winter.

Three days after leaving Port San Carlos, the Royal Marines arrived at Teal Inlet as the Paras were setting off. On the following night, 42 Commando were flown onto
Mount
Kent by the 846 Squadron Sea Kings. So, by Friday 4 June, three major units of 3 Brigade were in position on the hills around Mount Kent waiting to make their final push on the Argentine defences surrounding the capital Port Stanley.

Although the Argentines were not threatening the British advance on the ground, their vigorous defence of Goose Green had dispelled any hope that their defences might crumble. Major General Jeremy Moore wanted to add the 5 Brigade units of Welsh and Scots Guards and Gurkhas and form a second advance on the southern flank. The problem was how to get them there with most of the support helicopters focused on keeping the supply line open along the northern flank. They would have to do it on foot, joining up with 2 Para at Goose Green along the way.

Five Brigade troops dig in at San Carlos. Freezing muddy trenches are quite a contrast to the comfort of the
QE2
and
Canberra
luxury cruise liners. But as we used to say in the military, ‘If you can't take a joke, you shouldn't have joined.'

Five Brigade and their commander Brigadier Tony Wilson were concerned they might miss out on the action, presuming that 3 Brigade on the northern flank could finish off the job while 5 Brigade were still muddling around San Carlos and Goose Green.

Meanwhile, 2 Para were less than impressed at the prospect of waiting for the Guards units to arrive, and still having to walk all the way east towards Fitzroy. So, on Wednesday 2 June, they hatched a unilateral plan for a
coup de main
to achieve a giant leap forward. Five Scout helicopters armed with anti-tank SS-11 missiles and a small group of Paras conducted an air assault on a group of outbuildings at Swan Inlet. Finding the buildings empty, they then made a telephone call to the settlement manager at Fitzroy. Confirming that it was safe to talk and that there were no ‘Argies' in the area, the Paras told the surprised Falkland islanders to expect to see them soon.

Back at Goose Green, Brigadier Wilson commandeered Bravo November, cramming the helicopter far above capacity with eighty-one heavily armed Paras. The Chinook set off at low level across the open terrain to land the troops at Fitzroy, following up with a further load of seventy-four Paras.

It so nearly ended in disaster. Royal Marine Mountain and Arctic Warfare observation posts in the hills overlooking Fitzroy heard the Chinook and spotted large numbers of troops on the ground through breaks in the low cloud cover. They hadn't been told to expect any British operations in the area, so had to assume the helicopter troops were Argentine reinforcements. By radio, they set up a fire mission with their headquarters to the north at Teal. Communication limitations between San Carlos, Teal and Goose Green meant that nobody outside 2 Para had any idea of the surprise move to Fitzroy. The fire mission was
accepted
. Guns were prepared and ready to bring down the first burst of three targeting rounds ‘for effect'. It was only a break in the clouds that revealed a British Scout helicopter. The observation team realised what was going on and cancelled the fire mission with seconds to spare.

The Royal Marines and Army Air Corps operated these Scout helicopters that were used extensively for casualty evacuation and missile firing. These Army Scouts are taking off from Darwin, just yards from where a Pucara shot down their Royal Marine colleague during the battle for Goose Green.

The first Major General Jeremy Moore knew of this
coup de main
was when the RAF Chinook pilots, Flight Lieutenant Nick Grose and Flying Officer Colin Miller, marched into headquarters back at San Carlos declaring: ‘You'll never guess what we just did …'. With their giant leap forward, 5 Brigade had catapulted themselves into the action. Moore was now forced to switch his attention towards strengthening the southern flank and supporting the isolated units at Fitzroy.

It was now essential to reinforce the position at Fitzroy with more troops and equipment. Although the Gurkhas made light work of their march to Goose Green, the Welsh Guards found the going more difficult. Progress was slow. Vehicles became bogged down, lacking the cross-country manoeuvrability of the Royal Marines' snowmobiles. After just twelve hours marching, the Welsh Guards were recalled to San Carlos, inevitably attracting derision and disbelief once news had filtered through to the 3 Brigade units on Mount Kent.

The only way to get 5 Brigade to Fitzroy was now by sea, exposing a landing ship to attack from the air. A further danger was the risk from land-based Exocet missiles fired from Stanley. Days earlier, a missile had been fired at the Type-21 frigate, HMS
Avenger
, causing the Royal Navy to establish a twenty-five-mile no-go zone around the Falklands capital.

Even with the arrival of the new Sea Kings and Wessex, most support helicopters were still busy ferrying equipment between the new Brigade Maintenance Area at Teal and the growing number of troops in the hills around Mount Kent. Bad weather restricted flying availability and flying into the front line meant frequently coming under fire. Simon Thornewill's Sea Kings had arrived in the middle of a firefight while landing the first batch of 42 Commando Royal Marines on Mount Kent. During a troop move in the same area, newly arrived Flipper Hughes found his Wessex rocked by a mortar blast. As the net closed in around the Argentine ground forces, almost all aircrew came into contact with the blast from mortar and artillery shells at some stage.