Margaret Thatcher: The Autobiography (64 page)

Al Haig was now in Europe and his absence apparently gave those in the Administration who were favourable to the Argentinians an opportunity to persuade President Reagan that it was we who were being inflexible. President Reagan telephoned me at 6.40 that evening. He had gained the impression that the Argentinians and ourselves were now quite close
in our negotiating positions. I had to tell him that unfortunately this was not the case. Major obstacles remained. President Reagan was also concerned that the struggle was being portrayed as one between David and Goliath – in which the United Kingdom was cast as Goliath. I pointed out that this could hardly be true at a distance of 8,000 miles. I reminded the President that he would not wish his people to live under the sort of regime offered by the military Junta and also of the length of time that many of the islanders had lived there, and the strategic significance of the Falkland Islands if, for example, the Panama Canal were ever closed. I finished by seeking to persuade him – I believe successfully – that he had been misinformed about the Argentinians’ alleged concessions. It was a difficult conversation but on balance probably a useful one. The fact that even our closest ally could look at things in this way demonstrated the difficulties we faced.

That Sunday at Chequers was mainly spent in drafting our own final proposals, to be put to the Argentinians by the UN Secretary-General. The vital consideration was that we bring the negotiating process to an end – ideally, before the landings – but in such a way as to avoid appearing intransigent. It became clear that we would have to make a very reasonable offer. I accepted this because I was convinced that the Argentinians would reject it, and strictly on a take-it-or-leave-it basis: the Argentinians must accept the offer as a whole, or not at all, and once rejected, it would be withdrawn. We would set a time limit for their response.

Tony Parsons and Nico Henderson – back in Britain – were both closely involved in the drafting. We went over every point in detail, remodelling the draft clause by clause. At hand were voluminous reference sources on the UN and the law relating to the administration of the Falklands. We hardened our terms in respect of interim administration, ensuring something close to self-government for the islanders and denying any role to the Argentine Government. We excluded South Georgia and the other dependencies from the proposals altogether. We made reference to Article 73 of the UN Charter, which implies self-determination, to make it clear that the wishes of the islanders would be paramount in long-term negotiations. The Argentine Government was required to give a response within 48 hours and there was to be no negotiation of the terms. This exercise also allowed me subsequently to explain each phrase to the House of Commons to allay their understandable fears that we might be prepared to yield too much.

On the morning of Tuesday 18 May the War Cabinet met with all the Chiefs of Staff. It was perhaps the crucial moment. We had to decide whether to go ahead with the landing on the Falklands; I asked each Service Chief to give his views. The difficulties were clear: we would be vulnerable on landing and, in particular, there were doubts whether we had enough air cover. We had not been able to knock out as many Argentine ships or aircraft as we would have liked in the weeks before the landing. And always there was the fact that we had not been able to locate their submarines.

But it was also clear that the longer the delay, the greater the risk of losses and the worse the condition of our troops when they had to fight. The troops could not remain on board ship indefinitely. The judgement was that the advantages of landing outweighed the risks of postponement. The rules of engagement had already been agreed. The attack would be by night.

None of us now doubted what must be done. We authorized the landing on the basis of the Force Commander’s plan, subject to the Cabinet’s final approval. It could be stopped any time until late on Thursday which would allow us thoroughly to consider any reply from the Argentinians to our proposals. Beyond that, the timing was for the Force Commander himself.

In fact, on the next day, Wednesday, we received the Argentine response, which was in effect a comprehensive rejection of our proposals. We had decided earlier – at Francis Pym’s suggestion – that following Argentine rejection we would publish them, and we did so on 20 May. This was the first time during the whole of the diplomatic manoeuvring that either side had made public their actual negotiating position and our terms created a good international impression.

The Secretary-General made a last-minute attempt in messages to me and General Galtieri to put forward his own proposals. On Thursday morning (20 May) the War Cabinet met before the full Cabinet. Once again, Francis urged a compromise. He suggested that the Secretary-General’s
aide-mémoire
was very similar to our own proposals and that it would not be understood if we now went ahead with military measures. But the fact was that Sr de Cuellar’s proposals were sketchy and unclear; to have accepted would have put us right back at the beginning again. I summed up very firmly. There could be no question of holding up the military timetable. It could be fatal for our forces. The War Cabinet and later the full Cabinet agreed.

The Secretary-General had received no reply from the Argentinians about his
aide-mémoire –
on which we, in spite of all our reservations, had offered serious comments. He admitted the failure of his efforts to the Security Council. We published our proposals and I defended them in the House of Commons that afternoon. The debate went well and provided a good background for what now had to happen.

I had a full day of engagements in my constituency on Friday 21 May and I knew how important it was to carry on with business as usual.

Later that evening, while I was at a reception in Woodhouse School, still in the constituency, the news came over on the television. The Union Jack was flying in San Carlos: we had returned to the Falklands.

But I was desperately anxious about casualties.

Later that night I returned to No. 10 and John Nott brought me a full report. The actual landing had been achieved without a single casualty. But now it was daytime and fierce air attacks had begun. The frigate HMS
Ardent
was lost. Another frigate – HMS
Argonaut –
and the destroyer HMS
Brilliant
were badly damaged.

The main amphibious force had moved towards San Carlos Water, blessed with an overcast sky and poor visibility, while diversionary raids continued elsewhere on East Falkland. Under cover of naval gun fire, our troops had been taken ashore in landing craft, while helicopters moved equipment and stores. Five thousand men were safely landed, though we lost two helicopters and their crews. The beach-head had been established, though it would take several days for it finally to be secured.

At the Security Council, meeting in open session, Tony Parsons defended our position against predictable rhetorical attacks from Argentina’s allies. At the end of the debate the Irish tabled a totally unacceptable resolution. It was the Africans who amended the Irish resolution to the point at which we could accept it. This became UNSCR 505, adopted unanimously on 26 May, giving the Secretary-General a mandate to seek an end to the hostilities and full implementation of UNSCR 502.

On Saturday afternoon I visited Northwood before going on to Chequers and 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, the fact
was that we had landed our forces successfully and serious losses were being inflicted on the Argentine Air Force.

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. 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 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 such as 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 – 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 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.

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. 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. Only one 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 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: we were not fatally wounded after all. 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.

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 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 Argentinian 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’.