by Harry Benson
Contents
About the Book
About the Author
Title Page
Maps
Foreword
Introduction
Key Characters
Helicopters in the Falklands War
Prologue
Chapter 1. An inauspicious start: 22 April 1982
Chapter 2. Junglies: 1979–82
Chapter 3. April Fools: 2 April 1982
Chapter 4. Not a ‘first tourist’ day: 21 April 1982
Chapter 5. Kicking off: 1–6 May 1982
Chapter 6. Preparing to land: 7–19 May 1982
Chapter 7. D-Day: 20–21 May 1982
Chapter 8. ‘Air raid warning red, SCRAM!’: 22–24 May 1982
Chapter 9. Coventry and Conveyor: 25 May 1982
Chapter 10. Break-out: 26–29 May 1982
Chapter 11. Advance: 30–31 May 1982
Chapter 12. Reinforcements: 1–7 June 1982
Chapter 13. Disaster at Port Pleasant: 8 June 1982
Chapter 14. Dash and panache: 9–11 June 1982
Chapter 15. ‘Follow me boys’: 12 June 1982
Chapter 16. White flags: 13–15 June 1982
Epilogue
List of Illustrations
Acknowledgements
Picture Section
Index
Copyright
About the Book
Soon after the Argentine army invaded the Falklands in the early hours of 2 April 1982, it was the Royal Navy commando helicopter pilots, nicknamed junglies, who flew most of the land-based missions in the Falklands in their Sea King and Wessex helicopters. Facing both mortar fire and head-on attacks by Argentine jets, they inserted SAS patrols at night, rescued survivors of Exocet attacks and mounted daring missile raids, as well as supporting the British troops and evacuating casualties, often in appalling weather conditions.
Harry Benson was a twenty-one-year-old junglie Wessex pilot, fresh out of training, when war started. He has interviewed over forty of his former colleagues for this book, creating a fast-paced, meticulously researched and compelling account written by someone who was there, in the cockpit of a Wessex helicopter.
About the Author
Aged 21, Harry was one of the youngest helicopter pilots to serve in the Falklands war. Following two tours as a Royal Navy pilot, Harry moved to Asia in 1988 with his wife Kate to work in finance. He returned to the UK in 1997, took a first class degree in Psychology from Bristol University and started what has become Britain’s most successful local relationship project, Bristol Community Family Trust, teaching practical relationship skills to thousands of couples.
SCRAM!
The Gripping First-hand Account of the Helicopter War in the Falklands
Harry Benson
The final land battles of the Falklands war took place in two distinct phases. Night of 11/12 June: Longdon, Two Sisters, Harriet. Night of 13/14 June: Tumbledown, Wireless Ridge and Sapper Hill.
Foreword
Julian Thompson
Commander 3rd Commando Brigade in 1982
Harry Benson’s aptly named Scram! is the first account to be written about the junglies’ part in the Falklands War of 1982. The junglies being the name for the Royal Navy troop lift helicopters, dating back to the campaign in the jungles of Borneo in the 1960s. Back then, the Fleet Air Arm helicopter aircrews made a name for themselves as ‘can do’ people – a reputation that they more than upheld in the Falklands War. ‘Scram’, broadcast over the helicopter control radio net during the Falklands War meant take cover from Argentine fighters. This call was a regular feature of life down south, especially during the first six days after we landed while the Royal Navy fought and won the Battle of San Carlos Water; arguably the toughest fight by British ships against enemy air attack since Crete in 1941. As the Argentine fighter/bombers came barrelling in I would watch heart in mouth as the junglies headed for folds in the ground, remaining burning and turning until the enemy had left. Sometimes there was nothing for it but for them to keep on flying, especially if the helicopter in question was carrying an underslung load; or had just lifted from a ship well out in San Carlos Water, with nowhere handy to hide.
Today there is a road network in East Falkland. In 1982 there were no roads outside Stanley and a rough track from Fitzroy to Stanley. Every single bean, bullet, and weapon had to be flown forward from where it had been offloaded from ships – unless it was carried on the back of a marine or soldier, or by the handful of tracked vehicles capable of negotiating the ubiquitous peat bog that along with stone runs and dinosaur-like spine backed hills constituted the Falklands landscape. Likewise every casualty had to be flown back. Without the junglies there would have been no point in us going south to retake the Falklands; we would have got nowhere.
I am glad that Harry Benson has given space to tell of some of the activities of the non junglie choppers. He relates in some detail the story of the epic rescue of the SAS from the Fortuna Glacier in South Georgia by HMS Antrim’s anti-submarine helicopter; a pinger to the junglies. What the SAS thought they were doing up there is another matter, and my opinions on the matter are best left unsaid. Harry Benson also devotes space to the activities of the 3rd Commando Brigade Air Squadron; the gallant 3 BAS, or to some TWA (standing for Teeny Weeny Airways) – 3 BAS suffered the highest casualty rate and was awarded the most decorations in proportion to its numbers of any organisation on the British side in that War. The outstanding support given to the land forces by the only RAF Chinook to survive the sinking of the Atlantic Conveyor is also given due recognition.
We went south with far too few helicopters initially. Those we had were flown every hour they could be; often with bullet holes in fuselages, red warning lights on in cockpits denoting malfunctioning equipment; breaking every peacetime rule. One of the 3 BAS Scout helicopters had a bullet hole in the tail section patched with the lid from a Kiwi boot polish tin. Today’s health and safety nerds would have an apoplectic fit. The aircrews worked themselves into the ground. In wartime you should have at least one and a half times the number of aircrew as you have aircraft. Aircrew fatigue will strike long before the aircraft wear out. We did not have this ratio of crews to aircraft. The imperatives of warfighting had long been forgotten. While the rats in the shape of politicians and civil servants had gnawed away at the manpower of the Fleet Air Arm along with everything else connected with defence. Fighting 8,000 miles from home was not the war we had prepared for in the long years of the cold war. But you rarely fight the war you think you are going to fight; this had been forgotten too. Fortunately for those of us fighting the land campaign, none of this fazed the junglie aircrew; our lifeline. They got on with the job, often flying in appalling weather, in snow blizzards both by day and night, with low cloud concealing high ground, and often along routes easily predictable to the enemy, with the ever-present threat of being bounced by enemy fighters in daylight; most deadly of all being the turbo-prop Pucara which with its low speed was far more dangerous to a helicopter than a jet.
The story of the deeds of the junglies in the Falklands War is well overdue. I am delighted that it has been written at last.
Introduction
A great deal has been said and written about the Falklands War: the task force, the Sea Harriers, the Exocets, the Paras, the Marines, the amphibious landings. But what is so extraordinary is how little is known of the exploits of the young helicopter crews, my friends and colleagues – the junglies – who made much of the war happen. Junglies are Royal Navy commando pilots, a throwback to the 1960s when British helicopters flew over the jungles of Borneo. Days after the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands in April 1982, a British task force was deployed with junglie crews spread throughout the fleet. These squadrons, with their
Sea King and Wessex helicopters, flew most of the land-based missions in the war. Yet almost nothing has been written about our exploits.
It wasn’t until an informal reunion in June 2007 that I realised this. A bunch of us former junglies had arranged to meet in a pub in Whitehall the night before we were to parade down the Mall for the formal twenty-fifth anniversary celebrations. I hadn’t seen many of these guys in years. Seeing old friends was an emotional moment at first. But then the beer did its work and we were off, armed with a licence to tell each other our war stories.
What was so amazing that evening was not just that there were so many fantastic stories, but that none of us knew what the others had done during the war. In many cases, the stories were coming out for the first time. I sat transfixed as I heard about the helicopter missile strike on Port Stanley. And although I knew about the helicopter crashes, I had never heard any of the detail first hand. I knew little of the dramatic rescues from burning ships and even less of the harrowing story of being on the wrong end of an Exocet strike. I had absolutely no idea that anybody had gone head to head with an Argentine A-4 Skyhawk or the dreaded Pucara, or been strafed by a Mirage and survived. None of us had spoken about it. Until now.
As helicopter crews, we’d been so busy doing our own thing, flying our own missions, very often unaware of what else was going on. We only ever saw our little piece of the jigsaw, our own personal adventure. But between the lot of us we’d seen pretty much the whole thing and been involved in almost all the major events of the war. Perhaps it was understandable that we had said little to others in the intervening years, yet we hadn’t even told each other.
And so, from that evening, the first grain of an idea formed: to write the untold story of the helicopter war in the Falklands.
Back in England after the Falklands War, I’m ready for a mess dinner in the wardroom at Royal Naval Air Station Yeovilton.
Key Characters
Almost 500 helicopter pilots, aircrewmen and observers flew in the Falklands War. The following are some of the key personalities who feature in this book.
845 Squadron (Wessex 5)
Pilots: Roger Warden (commanding officer, Ascension Island), Jack Lomas (A Flight commander), Nick Foster (B Flight commander), Mike Tidd (C Flight commander), Mike Crabtree (E Flight commander), Andy Berryman, Mark Evans, Ric Fox, Ian Georgeson, Richard Harden, Paul Heathcote, Steve Judd, Dave Knight, Richard Morton, Andy Pulford, Kim Slowe
Aircrew: Arthur Balls, Kev Gleeson, Dave Greet, Jan Lomas, Steve MacNaughton, Smiler Smiles, Ian Tyrrell, Tug Wilson
846 Squadron (Sea King 4)
Pilots: Simon Thornewill (commanding officer), Bill Pollock (senior pilot), Alan Bennett, Martin Eales, Bob Grundy, Ray Harper, Bob Horton, Paul Humphreys, Dick Hutchings, Trevor Jackson, Dave Lord, John Middleton, John Miller, Nigel North, Pete Rainey, Peter Spens-Black
Aircrew: Splash Ashdown, Kevin Casey, Pete Imrie, Michael Love, John Sheldon, Colin Tattersall, Alf Tupper
847 Squadron (Wessex 5)
Pilots: Mike Booth (commanding officer), Rob Flexman (senior pilot), Peter Hails (B flight commander), Neil Anstis, Harry Benson, Ray Colborne, Willie Harrower, Tim Hughes, Dave Kelly, Norman Lees, Paul McIntosh, Adrian Short, Pete Skinner, Jerry Spence, Mike Spencer, George Wallace
Aircrew: Mark Brickell, Jed Clamp, Neil Cummins, Al Doughty, Chris Eke, Steve Larsen, Jock McKie, Sandy Saunders, Reg Sharland, Smudge Smyth, Bill Tuttey
848 Squadron (Wessex 5)
Pilots: David Baston (commanding officer), Chris Blight (A Flight commander), Mark Salter (B Flight commander), Ralph Miles (D Flight commander), Ian Brown, Ian Bryant, Ian Chapman, Pete Manley, Dave Ockleton, Mark Salter, Paul Schwarz, Jerry Thomas
Aircrew: Ginge Burns, Martin Moreby
737 Squadron (Wessex 3)
Pilots: Ian Stanley (HMS Antrim flight commander), Stewart Cooper
Aircrew: Chris Parry (Antrim observer), Fitz Fitzgerald
825 Squadron (Sea King 2)
Pilots: Hugh Clark (commanding officer), John Boughton, Brian Evans, Steve Isacke, Phil Sheldon
Aircrew: Roy Egglestone, David Jackson, Tug Wilson
829 Squadron (Wasp)
Pilots: John Dransfield (HMS Plymouth), Tony Ellerbeck (HMS Endurance Flight commander), Tim Finding (Endurance)
Aircrew: Joe Harper, Bob Nadin (Endurance), David Wells (Endurance observer)
3 Brigade Air Squadron & 656 Squadron Army Air Corps (Gazelle and Scout)
Pilots: Peter Cameron (3 BAS commanding officer); Gervais Coryton, Andrew Evans, Ken Francis (Gazelle); Sam Drennan, Jeff Niblett, Richard Nunn (Scout)
Aircrew: Ed Candlish, Pat Griffin (Gazelle)
42 Squadron RAF (Chinook)
Pilots: Nick Grose, Dick Langworthy, Andy Lawless, Colin Miller
Other
Pilots: HRH Prince Andrew (820 Sea King), Keith Dudley (senior pilot, 820 Sea King), Chris Clayton (HMS Cardiff Lynx), Ray Middleton (HMS Broadsword Lynx), John Sephton (HMS Ardent Lynx)
Aircrew: Peter Hullett (Cardiff Lynx)
Helicopters in the Falklands War
Altogether 170 British helicopters were deployed with the task force to the South Atlantic and actively involved during the Falklands War. They were used in four main roles:
Prologue
THE FALKLAND ISLANDS is a small British dependency in the South Atlantic covering an area the size of East Anglia. There are two main islands, East and West Falkland, and hundreds of small islands. Much of the landscape is remote moorland. The abundant wildlife includes king penguins, sealions, upland geese, albatross and petrels.
The islands are just 250 miles from the Argentine mainland. However, the first settler in 1764 on East Falkland was in fact French, followed a year later in 1765 by the first English settler on West Falkland. Both were forced out by Spanish colonists from Buenos Aires, only for the British to reclaim their settlement in 1771. The British and Spanish garrisons eventually withdrew from the islands, distracted by other colonial wars, leaving behind little more than plaques to indicate their respective claims of sovereignty.
In the early nineteenth century, there were several short-lived attempts to establish settlements on the Falklands. The newly independent Argentine government appointed the most committed of these settlers as commandant in 1829. The British protested that Spanish rights had not transferred to the Argentines and, four years later, sent a garrison to establish administration over all of the islands. British colonisation followed in 1845 at the new capital, Port Stanley, on East Falkland.
Argentina continued to dispute British sovereignty, eventually bringing the issue to the attention of the United Nations in 1965. The geographical location of the islands – so close to Argentina and so far from Britain – argued for a transfer of sovereignty. But this was heavily constrained by the wishes of the islanders to remain a British dependency.
The military junta that took control of the Argentine government in 1976 was determined to press the issue. The establishment of an Argentine military base at South Thule, part of the South Sandwich Islands, provoked the British government to send a naval task force to the South Atlantic in 1977. However, reluctance to eject the Argentine occupiers by force resulted in diplomatic stalemate. This merely encouraged the junta that an invasion of the Falklands would not be resisted.
On Friday, 19 March 1982, Argentine soldiers masquerading as scrap merchants landed on the British dependency of South Georgia, another small group of islands under the administration of the Falkland Islands some 800 miles to their north. South Georgia is notable for its severe mountainous scenery, glaciers, wildlife colonies and appalling weather. The soldiers resisted the efforts of the British Antarctic survey ship HMS Endurance and her party of Royal Marines to encourage their repatriation.
Two weeks later, on Friday 2 April, a much larger Argentine force invaded the Falkland Islands, quickly overwhelming the resistance of the Royal Marines stationed at Port Stanley. It was the cue for the small force occup
ying South Georgia to raise their national flag. The Falkland Islands and South Georgia were now firmly in Argentine hands. The question now was: How would the British government respond?
Chapter 1
An inauspicious start: 22 April 1982
ONE OF THE first British acts of the Falklands War was the attempt to recover South Georgia using the elite troops of Britain’s Special Air Service. Still buoyant from their dramatic success in releasing hostages from the Iranian Embassy siege in London two years earlier, an SAS team planned to take control of South Georgia by the most unlikely and unexpected route. Inserted by two Royal Navy commando Wessex helicopters of 845 Squadron onto the Fortuna Glacier, the largest tidewater glacier on South Georgia, the plan was for them to march across the spine of the huge mountains and take the unknown Argentine force at the whaling station at Leith by surprise.
Despite warnings about the treacherous and unpredictable nature of the sub-Antarctic weather and conditions high up on the glacier, the SAS were inserted. Overnight, on 21/22 April 1982, the weather duly did its worst: a violent storm, the wind gusting to 100 knots and producing squalls of driving snow, stopped the SAS in their tracks after just a few hundred yards progress. With frostbite and exposure a real concern, the SAS troop commander radioed for the helicopters to return and rescue them.
Below the faint disc made by the whirling rotor blades, Lieutenant Mike Tidd had a clear view over the edge of the glacier and down to the sea far below in the distance. The wind was gusting all over the place. Even on the ground with no power applied, his Wessex was still trying to fly itself sideways across the ice. Tidd glanced inside at the cockpit gauges. The air-speed indicator needle flickered between thirty and sixty knots of wind. Flurries of snow whipped over the surface. Conditions on top of South Georgia’s Fortuna Glacier were fearsome, far worse than anything Tidd had previously experienced training in the mountains of northern Norway. The helicopter was shaking viciously from side to side. Frankly it was terrifying. The sooner they were safely off the glacier and back on board ship the better.