First Into Action (38 page)

The plan might never have been considered had it not been for a boarding technique the SBS had developed only a few years earlier for MAT. Previously, when operatives abseiled from helicopters they used devices that clipped on to the line and applied friction to control their descent. On reaching the ground the tension had to be removed from the line before it could be unclipped to allow the next man to clip on from inside the helicopter and slide down. This was far too slow for the SBS’s needs, especially if the touch-down point was ‘hot’.

The SAS’s solution had been to dangle several lines from the chopper, one for each operative, but it still required precious seconds to unclip from the line at the bottom. It also increased the area needed to land a team – the SBS had to be able to land as many men as it could get into a chopper, up to twenty at a time, and touch them down on a single pinpoint, such as the roof of a ship’s bridge or a narrow gangway. In foul weather, using several thin lines, the risk of entanglement was great (during the Iranian Embassy siege, an SAS operative got tangled up abseiling down the side of the building).

The solution was a simple one, inspired by the age-old fireman’s pole. Using a single rope – two-inch-thick hemp was ideal – with one end fixed into the roof of the chopper, the operative, wearing a pair of heavy-duty leather gloves, slid down, legs wide apart, gripping only with his hands. He applied the brakes just before hitting the deck and sprinted away instantly on touch-down. This method also allowed more than one man on the rope at once. As soon as the first man left the chopper, the second was right behind him – or above, to be precise. In practice, we used thirty-foot lengths of rope with as many as four men sliding down at any one time. Men descended as fast as they could without breaking their ankles at the bottom. The incentive to get out of the way on touching down was great unless you wanted a size-twelve boot slamming on to your head.

It was decided to use a ninety-foot rope to board the
Narwal
because the obstructions on the deck, such as rigging and antennae, were unknown. With the weather as bad as it was the ship would be lurching up and down, so the first operative would have to choose his moment carefully before sliding down the rope. This was another advantage over abseiling since the abseil device requires the operative to be on firm ground to disconnect from it.

A dozen men climbed aboard the two Sea Kings and left the battle fleet behind and headed towards the
Narwal
. Meanwhile, the two Harriers that had originally been sent to sink the ship remained relentless in their attempts.

They strafed the ship with cannon-fire several times and even managed to hit it with two bombs, but a 1,000-pounder they dropped failed to explode. This was because a 1,000-pound bomb needs to be released above 500 feet before it automatically arms, otherwise the resulting explosion would destroy the aircraft that dropped it. Due to the conditions and poor visibility the bomb was released just below that optimum height. It was a ballsy effort by the Harrier pilot to have hit the target at all.

When the helicopters found the
Narwal
it looked like it was riding a roller-coaster as it lunged over the endless series of mountainous waves. The pilot of the first chopper, Alfie’s, did his best to manoeuvre his craft over the bouncing ship, and the ninety-foot rope was tossed out. It swung in over the bows of the ship, but the bows were not only moving up and down, they were lurching from side to side as if out of control. Something was not quite right.

The operatives were dressed in their regular assault gear and carrying their primary H&K machine-guns across their fronts ready for immediate use, secondary pistols in holsters on their hips, chest harnesses filled with spare rounds, and explosive packs on their backs. They crammed at the door ready to go, but it was quickly decided that, due to the erratic movements of the ship, instead of all piling on to the rope right away, Alfie would slide down first and hold the other end on the deck for the others. The rest of the team could then zip down in the normal way.

The pilot did his best to hold his position over the boat and though he was having difficulty there was no time to waste. Alfie grabbed the rope, swung out on to it, and slid down towards the boat.

The rope was just inboard as Alfie headed down it, but as he closed on the deck the ship suddenly lurched and dipped away. He slammed on the brakes as he found himself more or less level with the ship, but dangling out over the grey, hungry sea. The pilot tried to manoeuvre Alfie closer, but was having trouble controlling the chopper in the severe winds. Alfie could not last long where he was. There was no way he could climb back up even if that thought had crossed his mind. To add to his problems, the rope was soaking wet by now and his hands were losing friction. If he ditched into the ocean he had little hope of being rescued. As if matters were not bleak enough, Alfie then saw a figure exit from a door in the superstructure and head along the deck towards him. He gripped the rope with his feet and released a hand so he could reach for his pistol.

The pilot continued to try to swing the rope towards the boat, but could not get it closer than six feet away. Alfie would never make it if he tried to dive for the rails.

The Argentinian crewman paused at the point on the rails nearest to Alfie and studied him for a second. Alfie could not see a gun in his hand. The crewman disappeared momentarily as he ducked down to grab something. Men on the helicopter tried to get him in their weapon sights but were hindered by the erratic movements of both ship and chopper.

When the man reappeared, he was holding a long hook and pole. Alfie was swinging around a little and could only hope to get a pot shot at the man if he tried to whack him off the rope. But to Alfie’s surprise, the crewman hooked the rope and, with a great effort, pulled Alfie to the rails.

Alfie scrambled on to the deck, keeping hold of the rope for the rest of the team, who quickly followed.

‘Thanks mate,’ he said to the man as he levelled his pistol at him. The team began storming down the rope.

Alfie grabbed the crewman and demanded, ‘Take me to the captain.’

The crewman was stunned. When he had pulled Alfie in he had not known the choppers were British. For reasons that were not apparent at that moment the man was expecting an Argentinian helicopter. Even though the crewman had probably saved Alfie from disaster, this was not the time for niceties.

‘Where’s the captain?’ Alfie repeated threateningly.

When the crewman did not answer, Alfie hit him on the head with the pistol, not to knock him senseless, but to convince him they were not there to play around.

‘
Dondé el capitano?
’ Alfie shouted in pidgin Spanish.

The man protected his head and burbled something about the captain but still refused to indicate where he was. Alfie had had enough.

‘For the last time. Tell me where the captain is or I’ll blow your fucking head off.’

He grabbed the crewman fiercely and shoved the gun into his head to remove any remaining doubts he might have that Alfie was deadly serious. The man was scared stiff, but he pointed a shaking finger at himself and slowly enunciated what he had been trying to tell Alfie all along.

‘Me
capitan
,’ he said.

Alfie rolled his eyes and handed the captain over to one of the lads who was fluent in Spanish.

‘Tell him to muster all his crew on deck. Those who don’t can go down with it, I don’t give a fuck!’

As the operatives spread through the ship they found evidence of the recent Harrier attack. One crewman had been killed by machine-gun fire, and in an internal corridor they found another with one of his legs literally hanging on by a thread of flesh. Further up the corridor was the unexploded 1,000-pound bomb which, on entering the side of the ship, had passed through the crewman’s leg.

Alfie caught sight of a man hurrying out of the superstructure carrying several box-files. He was heading for the side with the intention of throwing the files overboard.

Alfie gave chase and stopped the man at gunpoint, warning him that he would follow the paperwork ‘either into the chopper or overboard – whichever you prefer’.

The man understood English perfectly and chose the chopper. He was an Argentinian intelligence officer and the files contained proof that the
Narwal
was indeed spying on the battle fleet.

While several of the SBS searched the ship for crew, a team prepared the charges while the rest helped captured prisoners to be winched up into the waiting choppers.

The helicopters were slowly filling with the bedraggled crew members, closely guarded by SBS operatives. As the crewman with the leg hanging off was winched screaming into the Sea King’s cabin, he was inspected by Colby, a Desperate Dan look-alike but without any of that character’s gentler traits. Colby decided that the leg could not be saved, took out his knife, cut through the flesh holding it on and tossed it out of the helicopter.

When every crewman was aboard the two Sea Kings, Alfie remained on board the
Narwal
with five other operatives to plant the explosives. It was decided, because the Sea Kings were so crowded with prisoners, to ferry them back to the fleet and return for Alfie and his men directly after.

As the Sea Kings departed, one of the explosives party found Alfie, who was in the bridge checking through the paperwork, and gave him some disturbing news.

‘I’ve just come from the bilges. This tub is taking water fast. It’s sinking.’

The ship had sustained more damage from the Harriers than had been thought, which is why it had been so out of control and also why the captain had been expecting an Argentinian rescue that was never coming anyway. The question was, could it stay afloat long enough for the choppers to come back and pick up the team?

Alfie stuck with the mission. Collecting the team off the
Narwal
was someone else’s responsibility.

‘Our job is to make sure this ship sinks. Place the charges and wait for my word to initiate them,’ he ordered.

The operative hurried away while Alfie radioed a message back to the fleet to explain the situation. He looked through the window at the blackness beyond the ship’s lights, hoping the Sea Kings would be back before the ship sank.

When Alfie went back downstairs he heard a loud, rhythmic thudding coming from one of the corridors. He was joined by a couple of other men to investigate the unusual booming noise. When they opened the door to the corridor they froze.

‘Holy shit!’ was the general exclamation.

The ship had drifted on its axis and was rolling heavily. With each lurching action the 1,000-pound bomb had started to roll along the corridor until it slammed into a bulkhead, then it rolled back to the opposite bulkhead with the next lurch.

They quickly grabbed what they could and, jumping over the bomb as it rolled at them, placed objects in its path until they could stabilise it. Their situation was beginning to look a bit serious, to say the least.

When the SBS on the Sea Kings heard the
Narwal
was sinking they unloaded the Argentinian crew in double-quick time and sped back to pick up their team-mates.

Alfie saw them arrive with some relief, then ordered the fuses to be ignited. The rest of his team were winched up to the Sea Kings as fast as possible. The seconds were ticking away as the fuses burned and, as the winch was lowered to pick up Alfie, who was the last man aboard, he had disappeared. He had been on deck seconds earlier, and now he was gone.

‘There he is,’ one of the men shouted as he saw Alfie running from the bridge. In his hands he was carrying the ship’s wheel and two bottles of fine red wine.

The SBS are part of the Navy, and there are some naval traditions that cannot be ignored, no matter what the circumstances. There is an old Navy saying that states, ‘If it moves salute it, if it doesn’t, paint it, And if it isn’t bolted down, requisition it,’ to which the SBS added; ‘If it is, unbolt it.’ This refers to memorabilia. An intricate part of every SBS operative’s first-line equipment was an adjustable wrench. Its unofficial use was for unbolting gizits. We spent a lot of time rehearsing live firing and explosives techniques on old Navy ships destined for the breaker’s yard, and most operatives had a brass porthole or two hanging in his home.

There were anxious moments as Alfie fumbled with his prizes and fixed himself into the winch.

‘Quick. Winch him up!’ shouted one of the explosives team to the chopper crewman as he anxiously checked his watch.

In true movie fashion, literally as Alfie left the deck, the explosive charges went off and rocked the ship. A cheer went up as the ship listed and was swallowed up by the Atlantic to join the many others that have ended up there throughout history. A grinning Alfie was pulled inside clutching his wine and wheel.

The SBS’s first ship attack from the air in the history of warfare had been a success, but perhaps not without a little help from the enemy. Such is war. The fine wine was consumed by all ranks of the assault team that evening as toasts were made, and the ship’s wheel was wrapped up and secured as booty. It hangs to this day in the Frog Inn, the SBS’s unofficial bar in the Poole camp.

The SBS felt good about their small victory and morale was high. But the smiles were soon wiped away when the news reached us that one of ours had been killed. Kiwi was the only SBS man to die in the Falklands, but what made the news even more disturbing was he had been shot by the SAS.

One problem that hamstrung the SBS throughout the Falklands conflict was the lack of communication between the SBS and the SAS. There was no joint special forces command at that time and they had separate headquarters. Having two special forces units operating behind enemy lines and not always in strict syncopation could only lead to problems. The SBS did not have satellite communications at that time and the SAS did. Neither did the SBS have an adequate HF radio system. This made it impossible at times for them to coordinate operations with the SAS.