The House by the Liffey (34 page)

Jack and Bertie's team sent back their reports regularly, from time to time moving their location, as directed from headquarters on board ship. The reports included details about some of the Argentine helicopter bases which had been spread around the islands. This information helped their own Harrier pilots to make successful strikes and destroy some of the helicopters, so limiting the ability to move Argentinian troops around the islands.

Eventually they were called back to their ship to be briefed for a different special operation. They were told of the concerns about attacks from the air during and after the planned landing of the main contingent of British forces close to San Carlos. Air strikes from Pebble Island, north of West Falkland, and therefore close to the approach routes and this landing area, were considered to represent a major threat, for it was believed that there were substantial numbers of Argentine ground attack aircraft located there.

The plan was to send in a team to eliminate the threat. A full assault on the base would take place, with diversionary attacks from the ships of the Task Force.

Jack and Bertie were to be a part of the assault team and they took off from their aircraft carrier, again in a Sea King helicopter. Unanticipated gale force winds made the whole exercise far more difficult than expected, not least for the aircraft carriers of the Task Force attempting to get close enough for the Sea Kings to be able reach their intended landfall. However, using their passive night-vision goggles they landed, of necessity, some distance from their target, to ensure the minimum chance of detection. The men, laden with all their assault equipment, then had to march a considerable distance to reach the target area. They had been split into two groups, one to provide ground support in the form of covering machine-gun fire, aimed at the settlement where they knew most of the Argentinian forces were sheltering from the weather. The other, for the actual assault, included Jack and Bertie.

As they jumped down from the chopper the full force of the wind hit them. It was even worse than conditions they had so far experienced.

‘As Mageen would say, Jesus, Mary and Joseph! It's going to be one helluva walk in this gale before we reach the action!'

Bertie's reply was whipped away on the wind.

‘I don't believe it! I've just trodden on a dead penguin.' Poor things, he thought. I know there are large colonies of them all over the island and once our assault gets going in the morning we'll disturb them in a big way.

After a punishing march of almost four miles they reached the point from which they could overlook the airfield and they settled in to wait for zero hour. Eventually, before the first pale light of dawn brightened the sky, tension reached boiling point. Bertie whispered to himself:

‘Come on boys – where's that covering fire?'

The words were hardly out of his mouth when all hell broke loose from the guns of one of the off-shore battleships, while the machine guns of the ground support group started up simultaneously. On all sides the Argentinian forces were kept pinned down, while gunfire from the cover team and the battleship destroyed the fuel and ammunition dumps.

‘Scots Wha Hae, Bertie, we're off.'

They tore down and along the runway, crouched low, and as they reached the aircraft on their assigned side they attached plastic explosives with quite short fuses. As instructed, they made sure they fixed them to the same part of each plane so that any surviving parts could not later be collected and cobbled together into replacement machines. They then attacked the planes with their various firearms doing considerable damage, including shooting away the undercarriages on some.

The team as a whole managed to place the explosives on all the targets, including the radar installation, without any opposition from the enemy. It was only after the job had been done, and the assault team started to withdraw, that the Argentinians responded and began pursuing, firing at the retreating men. However, in the return salvos, the officer leading them was killed and the counter-attack disintegrated.

As they ran back towards the helicopters, surprised at how little real opposition they had met, suddenly a mine, detonated by remote control, exploded close to the fleeing men. They were all showered with mud and Bertie grunted, dropped his assault rifle with it's attached grenade launcher, but stooped to pick it up, on the run, with his left hand.

‘Okay, Bertie?'

‘Yeh – shoulder's hit. I'll manage.'

He continued running and Jack and Geoff flanked him with Steve behind until well clear of the airfield. Then they insisted on carrying his rifle for the remainder of the journey, since he still had to cope with the rest of his load. They reached the helicopters without further mishap and the whole team was lifted back to the battleship.

Much to Bertie's chagrin, his injury was enough to mean he had to have a few days out of front-line action, especially as it was his right shoulder, and, being right-handed, this handicapped him in firing any weapon.

‘Come on, Doc! Surely you could patch me up enough to allow me to carry on with the others.'

‘Yes, I could but you might damage it again, even more seriously, and then you'd be out of things for the duration.'

‘But I'm letting the others in my troop down.'

‘You'd let them down very badly if you had to do some sudden fast firing and couldn't. It could put everyone at risk.'

‘Suppose so,' he agreed, reluctantly. Then turned to his friend standing by:

‘Sorry, Jack. Please tell the others I feel rotten about it.'

‘You needn't! I'm going ahead with the contingent that's been given the job of creating a diversion during the landings. There'll still be plenty to do after that as we head towards Stanley, so you'll be able to join us later.' He grinned. ‘In time for the final victory parade!'

Jack was part of a group of SAS personnel to be transferred by Sea King from his ship to another in preparation for this task. They had to circle the ship until its landing spot became available and while doing this disaster struck. Suddenly and without any warning the pilot seemed to lose control and the helicopter plunged towards the sea.

‘What the hell's happening, Geoff?'

‘Dunno, Jack, but looks like we're in deep shit.'

‘Oh God, and we've no life jackets.'

The disintegrating helicopter struck the water violently and many were killed instantly. Others died shortly after that. Only one third of the men survived, all with multiple and mostly severe injuries. Some of them managed to cling on to a small life raft that had inflated automatically. Jack was one of these and someone was clinging on beside him.

‘Geoff?' he shouted. Silence and a barely recognisable voice shouted back.

‘It's Steve – I think Geoff's bought it. You okay?'

‘Can't feel my legs. Arms working. You?'

‘One arm's useless but my legs are all right. Looks like we'll die of exposure.'

Fortunately, one of the other ships was close enough to manoeuvre alongside and a plucky young crew member dived into the icy waves and managed to swim the men to the ship where they were lifted as carefully as possible on board.

Jack's back was broken and his pelvis was in a mess. His war was over. They patched him up as best they could on board the ship. Then, with the others who had been badly injured he was transferred, by helicopter, to the big hospital ship. This had been equipped especially for the Falklands conflict with state of the art medical facilities and the most highly qualified medical personnel that the military could provide. The surgeons did their best to treat his injuries, but on his future prospects for being able to walk their verdict was couched in very reserved terms. The senior medical officer on board spoke to him about it.

‘They'll be able to do much more for you back at home in a hospital that specialises in spinal injuries. It's amazing what can be achieved these days. I can't honestly give you any sort of definitive answer at this early stage as to whether or not you'll walk again. I'm sorry!'

Grey in the face from pain, Jack looked at him, and summoning up a ghost of a smile gave his reply.

‘I'll walk again, Sir. Have no doubt about that!'

The surgeon looked at him and smiled.

‘You know I really do believe you will.' But in his heart of hearts he was not very optimistic and shared this with a colleague later.

‘If that man ever walks again it will be a miracle.'

* * * * *

Back on the base in England news was being sent regularly about the events 8,000 miles away. Mageen was reluctant to leave the house in case anything significant was reported. She suffered from a strange paradox of emotions, on the one hand clutching at all sources of possible news, but at the same time almost afraid of what she might hear or be told.

When Bertie's injury was reported to her, sorry as she was to hear of it, she was, nevertheless, relieved first that it was not serious and then that it wasn't Jack. If the two of them get away with that we'll all be happy, she thought. She wondered about contacting Bertie's ex-wife but, since they had never been very close and his injury was relatively minor, she decided against it. She had liked Rebecca well enough but, because the marriage had lasted such a short time, she had never got to know her really well. Their one child, Josh, now ten, lived with his mother and, like her own two boys, he idolized his father. Rebecca had tried to make the marriage work but couldn't cope with the constant anxiety and strain when Bertie was off on one of his special assignments.

Shortly after the news about Bertie, Mageen had a telephone call inviting her to drinks with the Brigadier and his wife. This was not unusual. Jack was very senior within his regular regiment. Brigadier Gordon was his superior officer, but as well as being fellow officers, the men and their wives were good friends.

‘Lovely to see you again, Mageen.'

‘It's good to see you too.'

She sat down on the sofa and Jenny sat beside her. Julian Gordon poured drinks and then, as he and Jenny looked at Mageen, she knew. The colour drained from her face and she put her hand over her mouth.

‘Oh no
. Please
, God,
no… no, no, no
…'

‘He's
alive
, Mageen.' Jenny put her arm around her, swift to reassure her.

‘But?'

‘He's injured.'

‘And it must be badly or I wouldn't be sitting here being told by you personally?' She got her answer from the Brigadier.

‘His injuries are quite severe, but he's getting the best treatment possible. We really do have a superb team of medics out there on the hospital ships.'

‘Please tell me everything – leave nothing out!'

They told her in as much detail as they could. When they had finished she was silent for a while before responding.

‘So they believe the helicopter hit an albatross which broke up the engine. Oh, my darling Jack. The irony of it! To have your military career finished by a
bird
.' By now tears were running down her face and she paused while she tried to pull herself together and collect her thoughts.

‘I'll go to him. I'll bring him home myself. I'm not waiting for any of the formal military procedures.'

‘That's not possible, Mageen. How would you get there? Not via Ascension Island: it's far too busy with the war. And you certainly can't go via Buenos Aires.'

‘No, but I can go to Montevideo. I know that route is open for bringing casualties home.'

‘Well yes, but what then? A civilian flight isn't equipped to deal with stretcher cases.'

‘I'll charter a plane home for him and me and then I'll have him treated in the best hospital in the country that specialises in spinal injuries.'

The Brigadier was appalled.

‘But, Mageen, even if feasible, that would cost an unbelievable amount of money.'

‘I realise that, but I'll find whatever it takes. And if I can't my parents will help me. Come to that the whole Butler family would – they all love Jack and, indeed, owe him a huge debt of gratitude. Some years ago, when my sister Izzy was abducted, he helped to save her life and with it my parents' and indeed the whole family's sanity, but I'm not supposed to tell anyone that!'

‘All right, your secret is safe with us. Let's not rush into a decision while you are, understandably, suffering from shock and extremely upset. Let's think it all through carefully. In the meantime drink this.'

He handed her a large glass of brandy which she sipped slowly. Eventually Jenny tried to put the situation in perspective.

‘The procedure at present would follow, almost exactly, the steps you're contemplating, Mageen. Jack will be transferred to Montevideo by one of the smaller hospital ships and yes, you're right, Uruguay
is
cooperating with us and allowing RAF transport planes to land and take off from there for bringing the injured home. The big VC10s have been adapted, with beds installed for stretcher cases. Jack will be as comfortable as is possible for the long journey and have medical staff in attendance. Then when he gets back here the Services will see to it that he has the best treatment money could possibly buy.'

‘Thank you, Jenny. But I want to be with him. He needs me now as he's never needed anyone before. My uncle is a doctor. I
know
he'd come with me to look after Jack on the journey. It wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that.'

Another silence and the Brigadier, gently, put a different point of view to her.

‘Have you thought how Jack might feel about all this? Do you think he would be comfortable at being given very privileged treatment, not available to his injured comrades, and only possible because his wife comes from a wealthy family? So far as I'm aware, no other family would be able to afford to do such a thing. Knowing him as I do, I think he would feel acutely embarrassed at such privilege and guilty too.'