Beyond Endurance: An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic

by Nicholas Barker

  Publication of the memorandum was to be accompanied by a unilateral statement making it clear that the Government would be willing to proceed to a final statement with Argentina that was acceptable to the islands’ inhabitants.

  Lord Chalfont visited the islands in September, 1968, to explain the policy. As Argentina would not accept the wishes of the islanders this visit was badly received in the Falklands, the Houses of Parliament and the British press. But even before the policy was laid to rest it was clear that the communiqué would come back to haunt the government. In fact the Government retraced their steps and substantial bilateral negotiations did follow, resulting in closer links between the Falklands and Argentina. A regular air link was established. Supplies and essential services including oil, an improved postal service and educational opportunities were all part of a Foreign Office strategy designed to woo the islanders towards a closer relationship with Argentina.

  But in 1972 the Argentine stated that these improvements would only be allowed to progress if the British Government were willing to reopen discussions over sovereignty. The British negotiating position in the discussions that followed lacked clear guidelines. Improved trade and communications links were advantageous but the position on sovereignty was muddled.

  British negotiators favoured a lease-back arrangement, but lacked either the will or the high-level support needed to implement the strategy. In 1973 Argentina ran out of patience and took the matter back to the United Nations. A special UN committee crafted Resolution 3160. This was very similar to the pronouncement of five years earlier. In essence the two countries were urged to accelerate negotiations on sovereignty.

  Following the General Election of 1974 Harold Wilson was presented with a range of options. The decision was taken to initiate talks with Argentina on condominium. Again the islanders’ response was that they would take no part in sovereignty talks, even if that sovereignty was to be shared. The initiative failed.

  At this point a number of Argentine newspapers advocated invasion of the islands. Although the Argentine Government insisted it had done nothing to stimulate these threats, there is no doubt they were aware of the effect of this barrage of publicity on the islanders and in London.

  The Joint Intelligence Committee in Whitehall advised the Cabinet that, although Argentine attitudes were hardening and that contingency plans may have been prepared for the occupation of the islands, military action remained unlikely.

  What was partly anticipated were further adventurist attacks, similar to Operation Condor in which some Argentine civilians landed an aeroplane on Stanley Racecourse in 1966. But it was not until 1977 that the British resolve was tested. The Argentines occupied one of the South Sandwich Islands, Southern Thüle. The response was to stand back and let them get on with it. This lack of commitment was noted.

  Earlier, in 1976, the maritime research ship Shackleton was fired upon by an Argentine destroyer when she was 78 miles south of Port Stanley. An attempt was also made to arrest the Shackleton, The Captain called the Argentine bluff. He refused assistance and continued with his survey. This operation, which had been approved weeks earlier, marked a significant deterioration in the Anglo-Argentine relationship. In 1976 Argentina was subjected to another military coup. The Joint Intelligence Committee in Whitehall concluded that the Malvinas question would be high on the new Junta’s agenda. It further concluded that Argentina may have high expectations of the success of their ongoing bilateral negotiations. However, they thought it was unlikely that the Junta would resort to force over the issue, although an aggressive response (within the United Nations) was anticipated. This conclusion was correct. President Videla did push for a solution through the UN.

  In December, 1976, the Assembly passed Resolution 31/49. This approved a further report of the Special Committee by expressing gratitude for the continuing efforts made by Argentina to facilitate the process of decolonization and to promote the wellbeing of the population of the islands. The UN requested the Argentine and British governments to expedite negotiations and report progress to the Secretary General and General Assembly as soon as possible.

  In terms of political signals received by the Junta the British stance must have seemed extremely confusing. While Lord Shackleton’s earlier visit to the Falklands, and his subsequent (1976) report, gave credence to the idea that Britain might wish to make a go of the Falklands, everything else suggested that HM Government would slide this vexed problem under a shroud of indecision before moving towards an eventual handover to Argentina.

  British and Argentine governments, then and now, have consistently failed to find a face-saving solution. This in turn has served to aggravate strongly held principles and to polarize opinion. Though Lord Shackleton produced his acclaimed report, and a series of progressive recommendations, the Labour Government announced that they were not willing to pay for most of these proposals. Only the least expensive proposal was activated; this was the encouragement of further links between the islands and Argentina. This could really only be read as a staging post to the time when a form of lease-back could be negotiated.

  Although few would have believed it at the time, 1979 marked the beginning of one of the longest periods of one-party power in any democratic state in the world during the 20th century. Margaret Thatcher’s government was certainly different, not least because there were very few representatives of the Conservative old guard in the new cabinet. Many of the incomers were little enough known in the UK; on the international stage many of them were debutantes.

  One who quickly revealed his inexperience was Nicholas Ridley, the Foreign Office Minister handed the Falklands brief. One of his tasks was to canvass support of the islanders for the foundation of a lease-back arrangement with Argentina. His Falklands visit the following year was not a success. His dealings with the islanders were high-handed, bordering on the arrogant, and largely because of this he failed to put across the logical basis for a lease-back agreement. When he returned to the UK his report to parliament was equally badly received. He also found little support in the Defence Committee, and indeed the cabinet withdrew from supplying the kind of leadership that was so badly needed.

  An opportunity had been lost. Opinion in the Falklands was divided at the time; a more circumspect approach may well have won the day. Instead his visit is remembered to this day with distaste, and his return to Westminster is seen as a turning point in the dispute.

  Nicholas Ridley’s failure to convey the lease-back scheme at home and abroad forced the Argentine Government, and through them their Foreign Office officials, into a more combative position. Further polarization took place when the Falkland Islanders called for a freeze on sovereignty negotiations.

  Foreign Secretary Lord Carrington decided to accept the islanders’ view. He stated that, ‘Domestic and political constraints must at this stage continue to prevent us from taking any steps which might be interpreted either as putting pressure on the islanders or as overruling their wishes.’

  The continued failure to reach any form of agreement, or even to set a timetable for further negotiation, caused only a minor reaction in Whitehall. However, the Ministry of Defence was asked to draw up a contingency plan for the defence of the islands. One of the assumptions for this plan was that approximately three weeks’ warning time would be required before a task force could be deployed. To make this workable British Intelligence in Argentina would give a warning of staged escalation of any military build-up that could be interpreted as preparations for invasion.

  In 1980 Rex Hunt was appointed Governer of the Falklands. His background was not that of the stereotypical career diplomat. He had served in the RAF during the War, latterly as a Spitfire pilot. Later he went up to Oxford before joining the Colonial Office. It was following the amalgamation with the Commonwealth Office that he became eligible for Foreign Office postings. He had served in Uganda as a District Commissioner, then largely in the Far East until 1972 when he returned to the Foreign Office i
n Whitehall. In 1974 he had been the Counsellor in Saigon when our Embassy was expelled. Before the Falklands appointment he had been the Counsellor in Kuala Lumpur. The great thing about Rex was that he was used to making decisions. This had been the way of things for him since working, largely unsupported, as a young District Commissioner in Uganda. Added to this he had a naturally purposeful manner which perhaps created divisions of opinion about him at Whitehall.

  During my briefings I met Rex at the Commonwealth Institute in London. We both recognized immediately that we were tuned to the same network. That rapport, and the friendship that grew from it, has been maintained ever since.

  As well as being Governor of the Falklands, his new job made him the area Commander in Chief of British Forces and High Commissioner of the British Antarctic Territory. In this latter rôle I would be obliged to take him, and his wife Mavis if she chose to go, to the Antarctic for one of our work periods in each season. In effect this meant one month on board. In time there would be very little that Rex Hunt did not know about the Endurance or her Captain.

  It was also in 1980 that Britain established a full diplomatic mission in Buenos Aires. Before that we had only a Chargé d’Affaires. The new embassy was to be led by Anthony Williams, a diplomat with a distinguished career record. There he was to be supported by all the trappings of a Second Grade Embassy, and a team of people who proved later to be far from in touch with the activities of the Argentine government.

  Anthony Williams, who was born in 1923, joined the Foreign Office in 1945. He had attended the former Imperial Defence College and served in Cairo, Geneva, Montevideo, Moscow, Prague, Rome, Washington and also, previously, in Buenos Aires. On the face of it, particularly because of his previous South American experience, it was an inspired appointment. His reports had always been noted for their intelligent wording and persuasiveness. When he did make a report from Argentina, right up to the time of his expulsion in April 1982, his words carried with them such a weight of credibility that this contributed to the exclusion perhaps of reports made by Rex Hunt.

  John Ure and Robin Fearn, both senior Foreign Office officials, spoke highly of Anthony Williams. So did Dr John Heap, now with the Foreign Office, but previously a member of the British Antarctic Survey. The splendidly erudite Dr Heap had been very much the architect of the Antarctic Treaty. In his long experience of Antarctica and the Falklands he had regularly travelled through Argentina and Chile. I do not believe there was anyone at the Foreign Office at that time who had such a measured awareness of the region and the geo-political machinations it generated. He became the cornerstone of my understanding of the international presences in the Antarctic, and the treaties and agreements extant in 1980. And his Cambridge background ensured he was an invaluable source of information on recent scientific findings which often, in turn, anticipated future projects.

  Nominally my ship belonged to the Third Flotilla, that is the flotilla of Naval ships that consisted of aircraft carriers, amphibious vessels and Endurance. The flotilla was led firmly and well by Vice Admiral John Cox who I came to admire enormously. He was a great ally in my crusade to keep Endurance in commission. He also passed on many of my views about maintaining a British military presence in the South Atlantic up the line to the First Sea Lord and the Government.

  The briefing for the ship’s rôle as the Falklands and South Atlantic Guard Ship had been shaped by the shots fired at Shackleton and the other adventurist incidents. Clearly we had to be capable of making an armed response, although according to the treaty we were not allowed to carry arms in the Antarctic. Our full outfit of missiles was therefore to be kept secret. Our AS 12s were air to surface missiles designed for helicopter delivery. They would be primarily effective against a smaller assailant such as a patrol boat. Anything larger would have the capability to shoot down the helicopter before it came within firing range. The Wasp helicopter that carried the AS 12s replaced the faithful Whirlwind. The price for this capability was a reduction in carrying capacity.

  Later, when government spokesmen such as John Nott referred to Endurance as ‘totally unarmed’ they were not attempting to mislead. They had simply not been informed either that we carried missiles or that we were the first ship to fire them in anger during the Conflict.

  In addition to the missiles and the helicopters capable of carrying them we had two of our three helicopters embarked at any one time. The ‘Flight’ (that is the personnel and equipment attached to Endurance) were based at Portland before joining the ship when it became operational.

  Normally when joining a ship, especially in command, you need to be fully briefed on the weapon fit (the weapons system) and, most of all, how to employ the weapons tactically. In the event the main weaponry of Endurance was the people. It was their spirit and ability to work with limited facilities often under great pressure which earned the ship the reputation which she so richly deserved by the end of the Conflict.

  Endurance joined the Royal Navy in 1968. Her previous name, the Anita Dan, betrayed her Viking origins. She had been built in Denmark in 1956 and had been employed largely as a Baltic trader. Her design was such that she coped well in waters where pack ice was a normal hazard. The frames were large and less than a foot apart: the plating forward was an inch thick. But she was not intended to be used as an ice breaker and was underpowered by an old Burmeister & Wayne diesel engine which produced just over 3,000 horsepower flat out. Although this engine unit was fairly venerable, it was reliable. Her maximum speed was 13.5 knots, at which she was able to run for long periods, and had a range, without refuelling, of 4,000 miles.

  The Red Plum as Endurance was called, was not an easy ship to control with just one propeller handling the limited power. In order to go astern you had to stop the engine and then re-engage the gear. Having commanded a fast frigate with 40,000 horse power, this was like coming down from a Porsche to a Morris Minor with all the implications for speed and manoeuvrability. Things got particularly interesting within the confines of the smaller harbours of South America, particularly when we were allocated a pilot who was as useful as a waterproof teabag.

  The briefing process included a study of the machinery, the somewhat basic electrical system, the navigational equipment, and the remaining weapon fit. These included the machine guns that could be fitted to the helicopters and various light weapons carried by the Royal Marine detachment. This detachment consisted of one officer and fourteen marines, reinforced to make up platoon strength by some of the Falklands-based 8901 Naval Party (Royal Marines). They carried normal infantry weapons together with anti-tank mortars, Carl Gustavs and some other smaller arms. All this was of course designed to be used for an emergency landing party, not as a counter to an invasion.

  It could be argued that the main armament of the ship was the listening suite. This was a small box parked on top of the hanger which contained a comprehensive set of monitoring equipment. It could also receive frequencies in most bands at sea or on station. Our communication technicians were Spanish linguists, which meant we were well informed whenever we went alongside in South America. Of course they were also skilled at seeking out valuable intelligence which allowed us to co-ordinate and review the situation as the political tension increased. In turn this meant they were invaluable during the Conflict.

  The Endurance was, in effect, a listening station. The two senior ratings most concerned were known as ‘The Spies’ by the Ship’s Company. It did not, of course, take the Argentines long to realize that the box added to the roof of the hangar contained something other than brooms for sweeping down the decks.

  Our primary role was as guardship, but the survey function ran a close second. Our hydrographic team of nine could be subdivided into three smaller units each with qualified officers in charge. One would be landed in the Falklands, one in the Antarctic for a brief period, and the third one would normally remain on board charting areas designated for future seasons. Charts for areas off the Antarctic peninsula were, and to a
considerable extent still are, sparse in terms of soundings, despite the burgeoning tourist industry and the number of scientific bases regularly serviced by sea. Apart from any international scheme of things that could determine the future use of the Antarctic, there is an ongoing need for a reasonable set of charts for all navigable areas. This is complicated by the fact that these areas change from year to year depending on the state of the ice, the position of icebergs, etc. Our survey team therefore had a task that was as near impossible as it was essential, and they were consequently an important department within the ship.

  Our ‘assist’ role for scientific projects would normally be led by the Director of the British Antarctic Survey, but we were also to provide support for projects initiated by, amongst others, the Scott Polar Institute at Cambridge and the University of Birmingham. This meant we always had rather more work than we could reasonably complete in a season.

  Much of the British effort was co-ordinated by the Hydrographer, based variably in London and Taunton, who liaised with our own hydrographer Lieutenant Commander David Ives, who in turn was supported by his assistants Lieutenants Todhunter, Snaith and Ball.