Read The Downing Street Years Online
Authors: Margaret Thatcher
On Saturday afternoon I visited Northwood before going on to Chequers. By now the full scale of the Argentine air attacks was all too apparent. To protect the operation at San Carlos, there had to be several levels of defence. First, there were the Sea Harriers on combat patrol flying high above the landing sites, subject to direction from the ships below. Without the Harriers, with their extraordinary manoeuvrability, flown with superb skill and courage, and using the latest version of the Sidewinder air-to-air missile supplied by Caspar Weinberger, we could not have retaken the Falklands. Second, Rapier missile batteries had been landed with the troops and placed in the hills around the bay. There were problems with the Rapiers: in particular the long journey at sea had created problems for their electronics. Then there were the air defences of the ships themselves, some based in the bay itself and others outside in Falkland Sound — principally long-range Sea Dart missiles on the Type 42 destroyers and the shorter-range Sea Wolf and Sea Cat on Type 22s and other frigates, but also anti-aircraft guns and even small arms.
At Northwood I spent some time getting up to date in the Operations Room. I did my best to seem confident, but when I left with Admiral Fieldhouse and we were out of earshot of anyone else, I could not help asking him: ‘how long can we go on taking this kind of punishment?’ He was no less worried. But he also had the ability of a great commander to see the other side of things. And, terrible as our losses had been and would be in the future, the fact was that we had landed our forces successfully and that serious losses were being inflicted on the Argentine airforce.
I should note here that we were assisted throughout by three important weaknesses in the Argentine air offensive, though in some ways these were the result of deliberate action on our part. First, the Argentinians concentrated their attacks — with the later tragic exception of the losses at Bluff Cove — on the naval escorts rather than the troop ships and aircraft carriers. Of course, in part that was because the escorts succeeded in shielding these units: that was their job. Second, the Argentine aircraft were forced to fly at a very low level to escape our missiles, with the result that the bombs they dropped (fused for higher altitude) frequently failed to explode. (Sadly a bomb which lodged in HMS
Antelope
did go off, sinking the ship, when a brave bomb disposal expert was trying to defuse it.) Third, the Argentinians had only a limited number of the devastating French Exocet missiles. They made desperate attempts to increase their arsenal. There was
evidence that arms from Libya and Israel were finding their way through South American countries to them. We for our part were equally desperate to interdict this supply. Later, on 29 May, I was to have a telephone conversation with President Mitterrand who told me that the French had a contract to supply Exocets to Peru, which he had already held up and which both of us feared would be passed on to Argentina. As always during the conflict, he was absolutely staunch.
The Americans too, however irritating and unpredictable their public pronouncements on occasion, were providing invaluable help. I have already mentioned the Sidewinder missiles. They also provided us with 150,000 square yards of matting to create a makeshift airstrip. On 3 May Caspar Weinberger even proposed sending down the carrier USS
Eisenhower
to act as a mobile runway for us in the South Atlantic — an offer that we found more encouraging than practical.
I was working in my room at the House of Commons on the evening of Tuesday 25 May when John Nott came in to say that the destroyer HMS
Coventry
had been attacked by a wave of Argentine aircraft. Six or more had repeatedly bombed her and she was sinking. She had, in fact, been one of the two warships on ‘picket duty’ outside the opening of Falkland Sound, providing early warning of air attack and an air defence screen for the supply ships unloading in San Carlos Water. She later capsized and sank. Nineteen members of her crew died in the attack. John had to appear on television within half an hour. Something of what had happened was already publicly known, although not the name of the ship. It was thought better not to reveal it until we had more details about the crew. Whether the decision was right or wrong I am still not sure: the effect of not announcing the name was that every navy family was full of anxiety. In fact, the details were announced by John in the House of Commons the next day.
Later the same evening I had more bad news. I had gone into the Private Office to find out the latest about
Coventry
, but instead, the No. 10 duty clerk told me that the 18,000 ton Cunard container ship
Atlantic Conveyor
had been hit by an Exocet missile; that the ship was on fire and that orders had been given to abandon it.
Atlantic Conveyor
was loaded with vital supplies for our forces on the Falklands. Unlike the warships, she was unable to defend herself against missile attack by sending up chaff. Four of those on board were killed and the captain was drowned, though I was told later that he survived the explosion and fires, and had been seen alive in the water. Thankfully, though, the great majority were saved.
I knew that the
Atlantic Conveyor
had been carrying nineteen more Harriers, sorely needed reinforcements. Had they still been on board?
If so, would we be able to carry on? The ship was also carrying helicopters which were vital to the movement of troops and supplies in the land campaign. Their loss caused our land commanders many difficulties. Only one of the helicopters was saved. To add to our general dismay, there was also news, based on an Argentine claim, that HMS
Invincible
had been hit and damaged. And I knew that somewhere east of the Falklands was the
QE2
, carrying 3,000 troops. For me, this was one of the worst nights of the war.
Early next morning I learnt that the news was not quite so bleak. I was told of the remarkable rescue of most members of the crews of
Coventry
and the
Atlantic Conveyor.
The nineteen Harriers had previously been flown onto
Hermes
and
Invincible.
Relief flooded over me at the news: we were not fatally wounded after all, though we had lost eight helicopters and 4,500 winter tents. Moreover, the news that
Invincible
had been hit was totally false.
Stores were still being unloaded at San Carlos. Some landing and supply craft were attacked and hit and there were unexploded bombs, most of which were defused. Our hospital centre at San Carlos was also hit, but the doctors carried on.
It was, though, a frustrating time for us in London. All of us were concerned that there appeared to be little movement by our troops out of the bridgehead. It took many days to unload the stores, equipment and munitions. The loss of the helicopters meant that all of the earlier plans had to be revised.
There was another worry. Would the Argentine Navy, which had after all apparently been strongest in pressing for an invasion of our islands, really continue to skulk in Argentine ports or would they now come out to attack and disrupt our advance? Two British ships had been sunk in our territorial waters around the Falklands. Perhaps we should send our submarines to sink Argentine ships in theirs? But the Attorney-General, Michael Havers, would not have this. So our submarine commanders were left prowling up and down the Argentine twelve-mile limit.
The trouble was that we knew that their ships might break out and we might not find them quickly enough to stop them. Again, it was the Argentine aircraft carrier, 25
de Mayo
, which was the main threat. I had been told that if possible we needed to deal with their aircraft carrier before the landing, but for most of the time we had not been able to find it. We feared that it had been held in reserve to oppose the landing and that it might well appear on the Argentine national day — 25 May. Several weeks before the landing one of our submarines had found it in the middle of a bay. It was a fine point of international
law to determine the limit of Argentine territorial waters: although the centre of the bay was more than twelve miles from the shore, it might be argued that the whole bay was within the limit. In the end we decided that the ship could be attacked, but by that time she had moved closer to the shore. The same issue arose regarding other Argentine vessels hugging territorial waters in the south. On this occasion Michael Havers and I had all the relevant charts laid out on the floor in the Parlour at Chequers and did the measurements ourselves. But the Argentinians were too careful and, unlike them, we were determined to stay within the constraints of international law.
Somewhat to the dismay of the UN Secretary-General and Al Haig, we made it clear that having landed we were not now prepared to negotiate. We could no longer accept the idea of an interim administration or proposals for mutual withdrawal of Argentine and British troops. The Americans were again becoming worried. They had been under ferocious verbal attacks at a meeting of the OAS on 27 May. We were put under continual pressure from Washington to avoid the final military humiliation of Argentina, which they now seemed to see as inevitable. I wish I could have been as confident. I knew, as they could not, how many risks and dangers still faced us in the campaign to recapture the islands.
This was amply demonstrated by the battle to retake Darwin and Goose Green. The Argentinians were well prepared and dug into strong defensive positions which had to be approached by our troops across the open ground of a narrow isthmus. They faced heavy enemy fire. As is well known, Colonel ‘H’ Jones, the commander of 2 Para, lost his life in securing the way forward for his troops. His second-in-command took over and eventually took the surrender. At one point a white flag was waved from the Argentine trenches, but when two of our soldiers advanced in response they were shot and killed. Finally, our commander sent two Argentine PoWs forward with a message to surrender, saying that they could have a parade if they liked but that they must lay down their arms. This proved acceptable. The Argentine officers harangued their men about the justice of their cause, but they surrendered all the same. The people of Goose Green, who had been imprisoned inside the community hall for three weeks, were now released. A famous battle had been won. Today there is a memorial to the Paras near Goose Green itself and a special memorial to ‘H’.
The media had reported that our troops were about to take Goose Green the day before the attack. I had been furious when I learnt of this — as, I believe, had ‘H’. Too much talk was giving the Argentinians
warning of what we intended, though the fault did not always lie with the media themselves but also with the media management at the MoD.
On the same day that 2 Para were battling for Darwin and Goose Green I had a meeting with Cardinal Casaroli, the Pope’s Secretary of State. We were all very pleased that the Pope had not postponed his visit to Britain — the first ever papal visit here — in spite of the fact that we were at war with a predominantly Catholic country. We recognized the difficulties which a visit at this time might cause him, however, and decided that it would be best if none of the Cabinet met him personally. I had, of course, already talked to the Pope on an earlier occasion and admired his principle and courage. I explained to Cardinal Casaroli what we were fighting for: I said that war was a terrible evil, but there were worse things, including the extinction of all that one believed in. We could not allow aggression to succeed. Nor could we bargain away the freedom, justice and democracy which the Falkland Islanders had enjoyed for so long and simply hand them over to Argentina, where these things were unknown. We made no public comment at the time, but I hoped that something of this message might be transmitted to the Argentinians: for the Pope was to visit Argentina after leaving Britain.
Unfortunately, the Americans now sought to revive diplomatic negotiation. Al Haig wanted to involve the Brazilians in a settlement which (contrary to what he had earlier suggested) must, he claimed, come before the final defeat of the Argentine forces on the island. These proposals were really the wrong ones at very much the wrong time. We had already made it clear that unconditional Argentine withdrawal and the return of British administration were now our goals. But I knew that we could not afford to alienate the United States, particularly at this stage. We kept in contact with Mr Haig both about the question of how to provide for and repatriate Argentine prisoners of war and more generally about our plans for the long-term future of the islands.
What would have been quite wrong was to snatch diplomatic defeat out of the jaws of military victory — as I had to tell President Reagan when he telephoned me late at night on Monday 31 May. It was not very satisfactory for either of us that I should not have had advance warning of what he was likely to say and as a result I was perhaps more forceful than friendly. The President had, it seems, again been speaking to the President of Brazil who shared his view that the best chance for peace was before the Argentinians suffered complete humiliation. As the UK now had the upper hand militarily, we should strike
a deal. I could not accept this. I told him that we could not contemplate a cease-fire without Argentine withdrawal. Having lost ships and lives because for seven weeks the Argentinians refused to negotiate, we would not consider handing the islands over to a third party. I understood the President’s fears. But I asked him to put himself in my position. I was sure that he would have acted in the same way as I did if Alaska — part of his own country, inhabited by his own people — had been similarly threatened. Moreover, I agreed with an excellent television interview he had given in which he had said that if the aggressor were to win, some fifty other territories, affected by similar disputes, would be at risk. This conversation was a little painful at the time but it had a worthwhile effect. The Americans now clearly understood our position and intentions. I would have a further opportunity shortly to talk to President Reagan in person during the forthcoming G7 summit at Versailles.