BEYOND ENDURANCE
BEYOND ENDURANCE
An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic
by
NICHOLAS BARKER
with a foreword by
SIR REX HUNT CMG
First published in Great Britain in 1997
Reprinted in this format 2002 by
LEO COOPER
an imprint of
Pen & Sword Books Ltd
47 Church Street
Barnsley
South Yorkshire
S70 2AS
© Nicholas Barker, 1997, 2002
ISBN 0 85052 879 8
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
Typeset by Phoenix Typesetting, Ilkley, West Yorkshire.
Printed in England by CPI UK
TO THE RED PLUM
AND ALL THOSE WHO
SERVED IN HER AND SUPPORTED HER
CONTENTS
Acknowledgements and Author’s Note
Foreword
Introduction
1. South Atlantic Briefing
2. Endurance goes South
3. ‘Planet Earth’
4. Endurance versus Whitehall
5. The Battle continues
6. Back South
7. South Georgia and Cape Horn
8. Tension Mounts
9. Invasion
10. Retaking South Georgia
11. Mopping Up
12. Homeward Bound
13. Post Mortem
Postscript
Index
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS AND AUTHOR’S NOTE
Much of this story was recorded on cassette. Had it not been for the wordsmith skills of Clive Kristen I am not sure how much shape and coherence would have emerged. Clive has been my Navigating Officer in charting the course of this book. His ingenuity and writing experience have helped to keep me, for the most part, clear of the rocks. It has been a fascinating voyage for both of us. I am also indebted to Maureen Ann Kristen for her technical and word-processing skills without which it would not have been possible to maintain momentum and revise a manuscript within a reasonable time framework.
The book was originally intended to be more autobiography than history, but I was persuaded by my publishers to tell the story of Endurance first and leave the rest of my life story for a possible later volume. In this book I endeavour to explain how we stumbled into an unnecessary war against a friendly nation. I had a duty to perform which always came before any personal feelings I had about incompetence in Whitehall and elsewhere. I accept that my interpretation of events in London and Buenos Aires may conflict with the received version of history or the views of some senior officials, civil and military, of the day. I hope that this core part of my narrative will be read as the informed account of a Naval Officer who was at the sharp end of events. It should be added that I have always taken a keen interest in geo-politics and have been regularly baffled by far-reaching political and diplomatic manoeuvres and recommendations that all too often have disastrous consequences. As likely as not this has been manifest through over-intelligent indecision.
To make sense of my commentary on internationally significant events, which may still have far-reaching consequences, the reader should know something of the whole man, warts and all. I am not a natural rebel, far from it. There have, however, been a number of occasions during my Naval life when I believed that principle required me to stand my ground. Fourteen years after the Falklands Conflict there is no rancour or bitterness, merely the intent to put the record straight. My account is to my mind both fair and truthful. Readers will judge this for themselves.
For this opportunity to put the record straight I am deeply grateful to my publisher, Leo Cooper. I know Leo views this volume as the final part of his ‘Falklands jigsaw’. That being the case, his patience in waiting for its completion is immeasurable. I must also express my gratitude to Tom Hartman for his editorial skill and advice, and to Ewen Southby-Tailyour for his help with the illustrations.
I am equally grateful to members of the South West Atlantic Group, and particularly to Lords Buxton, Callaghan and Hill-Norton. I must also express my deepest thanks to the Hon Alexandra Bergel (Ship’s sponsor to the Endurance), Sir Vivian Fuchs, Commander Ranken and the late Admiral Irving. There are many others, too numerous to mention by name, who fought the campaign to save HMS Endurance and to secure her replacement. They are, to my mind, the unsung heroes of this story.
I must also note my thanks to the Macadam family, who have been invaluable in their support and their enlightened views of government policy both in the UK and Argentina. They helped considerably in providing me with a unique and broad-based perspective.
But a sailor’s view of the world is, almost by definition, different. After almost 40 years in the service I have nothing but admiration for the men of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines. The Naval Officer is now better educated and better qualified to represent his country in the remotest corners of the world. He works cheerfully within a framework of ever-increasing constraints and cutbacks, takes the constant acceleration of technology in his stride and rarely complains when his view of the world is ignored by an officialdom cocooned in isolation and ignorance.
I sincerely thank Sir Rex Hunt for providing the foreword to this book and by making my task much easier by completing his own account My Falkland Days some time ago. Many thanks also to Roger Perkins for his advice and permission to loot sections of his excellent book Operation Paraquat, and to Andrew Lockett, Neil Munroe and David Wells, co-authors of Season of Conflict.
I have cherished memories of the late Lord Shackleton, who was a constant source of both advice and inspiration, and the late Lady Buxton whose writing provided a most refreshing view of life on board Endurance. Both these wonderful people did much to shape the content of these pages.
Lord Buxton has been another esteemed source of advice and encouragement for which I am enormously grateful. I also wish to record my thanks to my agent, Peter Knight, his assistant Ann King-Hall and my own former secretary Hilda Knowles. Each of them has taken an interest in this project that goes far beyond the call of duty.
Finally I thank my wife, Jennifer, for her support and common sense, my children for many ideas and contributions, and my former wife, Elizabeth, for her compassion to the families of the ship’s company.
NB
October, 1996
FOREWORD
BY SIR REX HUNT CMG
FORMER GOVERNOR OF THE FALKLAND ISLANDS
Forewords are usually written after reading the book, but I wrote the following in 1982 when Nick Barker was in mid-career in the Royal Navy with a fine record behind him and glittering prospects ahead. Nevertheless, it is I think a fitting introduction to the autobiography of a truly courageous and outstanding man.
* * *
I am writing this in the guest cabin of HMS Endurance. The Argentines have surrendered and we are steaming along the East Falklands coastline from Stanley where twenty-one British ships now lie peacefully at anchor, to Fitzroy, where Sir Galahad was mortally hit and Sir Tristram severely damaged by Argentine bombs a few weeks ago.
I last sat here in December, 1981, on a memorable trip to South Georgia, recalling with my wife happy memories of previous voyages on board Endurance, There were carefree incidents like snowballing on the upper deck as we nudged our way through the spectacular Le Maire Channel; the Chief Bosun’s Mate dressed up as one of Shackleton’s men off Elephant Island; skiing on Deception Island; stuck in the ice off James Ross Island; drinkin
g beer with the Senior Ratings. But that was another world. So much has taken place since then.
On 12 December, 1981, the night after our arrival at St Andrew’s Bay, I trapped my finger in the cabin door and lost a nail. In less time than it took to grow a new one the Argentines occupied the Falkland Islands and South Georgia, the British assembled a task force and transported it 8000 miles across the ocean, recaptured South Georgia, landed at San Carlos, marched across East Falkland, recaptured Stanley and sent over 10,000 Argentines packing.
This fine ship – which was about to be cast aside by the Ministry of Defence – put paid to an Argentine submarine, knocked down two helicopters, damaged a corvette and took the surrender of the garrisons at South Georgia and Southern Thule. Not bad for an ‘unarmed’ merchantman on her last trip!
I was, of course, delighted that HMS Endurance earned a reprieve. I can, however, understand that some people might think that her Captain went to inordinate lengths to guarantee her continued commission. Something less than engineering a full scale Argentine invasion might have served to prove his point! But one has to admit that, like everything else about Endurance, it was done with great style. And, unlike her illustrious predecessor, she survived to tell the tale. The Captain of the Santa Fe apparently had the opportunity to determine otherwise and perhaps for sentimental reasons decided not to deliver the coup de grâce.
The man whose name is synonymous with the first Endurance, Sir Ernest Shackleton, died on board the Quest in Grytviken Harbour on 5 January, 1922. His ‘Number One’, Commander Frank Wild, described how they took him to the hospital and placed him in a room they had shared seven years before. The next day they carried ‘The Boss’ to the little church situated at the foot of snow-covered mountains. There they said goodbye ‘to a great explorer, a great leader and a good comrade’.
‘The Boss’ whose name will now be forever associated with the second Endurance is Nick Barker. Although there is no longer the opportunity to win the first of Wild’s accolades I imagine his Number One, Mike Green, would confirm the other two. Come to think of it, I’m not sure that Nick does not qualify for all three, for I remember exploring uncharted seas off James Ross Island and being filled with admiration at the coolness on the bridge as the seabed suddenly shoaled from 40 to 9 metres. The only people having kittens were myself and the television team – landlubbers all and lacking in sang froid and the Nelson Touch. All 1 could think of was Bill Stephens, the Marine Engineering Officer, who explained that he had to stop the engine before putting it into reverse. So, with Endurance the days of exploration are not over.
I shall never forget the anxiety we felt for Endurance during those days at the end of March, 1982. We knew the Argentine fleet was at sea; we did not know where. We did however know that Endurance was heading west towards us from South Georgia. We dearly longed to see her return, of course, but with hindsight I am heartily glad she did not make it. Another day and she would have been there. I do not think she would have stopped the invasion but she would have tried and would almost certainly have been sunk with considerable loss of life.
As it was, she returned to South Georgia and thus began what must have been one of the strangest hide and seek games in military history. We all have reason to be grateful to Nick Barker, not only for successfully conducting the campaign to save his ship from the Whitehall axe, but also from the Argentine Navy. Thanks to him Endurance endures.
Wild said of Shackleton: ‘Of his hardihood and extraordinary powers of endurance, his buoyant powers of optimism when things seemed hopeless, and his unflinching courage in the face of danger I have no need to speak.’
If Wild had been alive today I am sure he would say the same about ‘The Boss’ of the second Endurance. I salute Captain Barker and all who sailed with him.
INTRODUCTION
1 April, 1982
It was a chill early morning. The sea was rough and the ship was heading westwards in a force ten gale. We were all accustomed to the violent pitching and rolling motion, but this time it felt much worse. The foul weather, the danger presented by the enemy and the political situation in which we found ourselves combined to create a nausea of frustration. The situation was as dark as the day. We had to work out a practical plan as soon as possible.
Commanding a ship can be a lonely business. When things are going well there is nothing more satisfying. I had been fortunate enough to command a number of ships, but never before had I felt so alone or betrayed.
‘This is the worst day of my life,’ I wrote in my diary. Why had the MOD not listened to my warnings? Why hadn’t the government repeated the strategy of 1977 and sent a small deterrent force to the South Atlantic? It had worked then. Why not now?
The Argentine amphibious force had landed on the Falklands beaches near Port Stanley. It was highly likely that another landing would take place on South Georgia, 400 miles away. HMS Endurance was half way between the two areas, heading towards the Falklands. Our ship stood alone as the only British presence in the South Atlantic, this was the culmination of years of political bungling, diplomatic misunderstanding and disastrous intelligence assessment.
I gathered together my tactical team. There was Francis Ponsonby, a former submarine Captain, who by fortunate coincidence was on board with a team making a film about the Royal Navy in the Antarctic. I was also able to turn to Bill Hurst, my senior and much trusted Navigating Officer, and to Tony Ellerbeck, our courageous Flight Commander. Unhappily we were without Mike Green, my second-in-command. Mike had been struck down with peritonitis a month earlier in South America. Despite Mike’s absence I felt we had a strong, sensible and mature command team. From their reaction I knew I reflected the mood of the moment.
‘There must be something we can do to zap these bastards,’ I said.
Looking round the communications office I read the determination on their faces. Such was the urgency of the moment it was easy to ignore the chatter of radio sets and teleprinters, and the kaleidoscope of lights and displays. The signals had been pouring in. When Port Stanley went off air we thought of our ship’s Naval survey team we had recently left there. The last communication had them shredding documents in Government House, accompanied by the distant rattle of machine-gun fire. We knew there were sixty or so marines dug in defensively. The ‘last resort’ was the small detachment around Government House. Faced by the first invasion wave of 2000 Argentines, they kept the flag flying for hours longer than expected.
The British Antarctic Survey radio confirmed the fall of Stanley. Ham radio operators from the UK told of the great victory claimed by the Argentines. Our covert helicopter over South Georgia had confirmed the worst. Our options were limited. We had left our Royal Marines on the ground in South Georgia. We were threatened by an Argentine group of two frigates, two destroyers, a submarine and a support tanker. The Argentine Group Commander, Cesar Trombetta, had invited us to surrender South Georgia. We told him to ‘get stuffed’. Further communications were ignored, but it would have been difficult to place a bet on our survival as things stood. Further breaks in radio silence could seal our fate. Despite all this, the mood of my command team echoed my own. We had to do something positive.
The obvious target was the tanker. Was it worth trying to ram it with the ice-breaking bow before turning east and down sea for South Georgia to support our Royal Marine Detachment? Here was something positive. I felt better. A plan was beginning to form. If nothing else we could leave the Argentine groups of ships without fuel. Without their ‘filling station’ these gas guzzlers could find themselves in a perilous situation drifting towards South Georgia. Then we could attack with our short-range helicopter-launched guided missiles. The alternative was a probably suicidal attempt to enter the harbour at Port Stanley in the vain hope of deterring an already committed amphibious operation.
There is irony in remembering that this was to be the final commission of the Endurance. John Nott, the Secretary of State for Defence, had included the ship in a
package of swingeing defence cuts which included the sale of the aircraft carrier HMS Invincible. He had charted a course for maritime diplomacy that was depressingly similar to the one set by government for national industries and services. He was deaf, not only to the advice of the First Sea Lord, Sir Henry Leach, but also to Lord Shackleton, perhaps the most acknowledged expert on the South Atlantic. More surprisingly, perhaps, he had refused to heed the warning delivered by a group of more than 300 peers and MPs (led by Lords Shackleton, Buxton, Callaghan and Hill-Norton) who believed that the withdrawal of HMS Endurance would precipitate military action by Argentina. The firm impression was that the Government didn’t give a damn about the South Atlantic until political necessity forced their hand. Now they had to do something. And afterwards, when it was all over, there was a greater irony. This little war became Margaret Thatcher’s finest hour.
When it came to talking to the media I was as firmly muzzled as a pit bull terrier with his MOD minder leading him round the show ring. There would be no hint of controversy, and no leaks to the press. The message was loud and depressingly clear: ‘You may have been right, Captain Barker, but on no account are you to say so.’ There was a General Election looming in mid-1983. No one, particularly Government and military service officials, were to undermine Mrs Thatcher’s reputation as a war leader.
The subsequent enquiry was like the débris of a paint factory explosion. There was little of substance left, and that which did survive was whitewashed. This was not the fault of enquiry chairman Lord Franks, an academic of integrity. But the intention was always to clear the government. This much I had suspected then. Later I had it confirmed personally by a member of the Board of the Enquiry.
Beyond Endurance: An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic Page 1
