Special Forces Pilot by Colonel Richard Hutchings Dsc

Author:Colonel Richard Hutchings Dsc
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781781594162
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Published: 2013-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

Tuesday, 10 May saw no respite in the weather. I had become used to walking around the ship in mountainous seas, trying to retain a dignified bearing, but failing miserably. One second I would feel almost weightless as I was left suspended in mid-air when the stern suddenly dropped 60 feet in the trough of an enormous wave, the next second the feeling of positive ‘G’ as my knees buckled when the stern leapt 60 feet into the air. Some people pay good money for that sort of experience on a fairground ride, but at least those rides are over in a few minutes, or seconds in some cases; this was relentless for hour after hour, day after day. I longed to fly, just to get away from it, but alas, that respite was to be denied me for another two days; two more days of spilt drinks, poor appetite and close encounters with bulkheads and ladders as I moved cautiously around the ship.

During the day the Admiral’s staff increasingly turned their attention to matters closer to the impending landing operations: Argentine forces on Pebble Island and mines. Pebble Island occupied a strategic position to the north-west of Falkland Sound. From their airstrip on the island, Argentine aircraft would be only a few minutes flying time from the amphibious ships and troops that would be in the vicinity of San Carlos in less than two weeks. How best to deal with the threat now taxed the planners for many hours. Of the several options under consideration, a raid by Special Forces was slowly gaining the most credibility, but time for planning and rehearsals was short and insufficient to allow the usual protracted period of reconnaissance, detailed planning and rehearsals which were the characteristic hallmark of Special Forces operations. However, undeterred, the Special Forces planning team, under the leadership of Major ‘E’, set about their military estimate and formulation of a concept of operations. The plan called for an eight-man SAS reconnaissance team to be inserted, preferably overnight on 10/11 May. However, the weather conspired to delay insertion until overnight on 11/12 May.

Meanwhile, in HMS Alacrity, Commander Chris Craig had received some very unwelcome news. Admiral Woodward had ordered that his ship circumnavigate East Falkland under the cover of darkness, ostensibly to make lots of noise and fire plenty of starshells, in order to perpetuate the programme of harassing the enemy. The ship’s real mission was to check the area of Falkland Sound for mines. How would they know if they had found a mine? Simple, the ship would hit one and be seriously damaged or sunk: another example of the expendability of escorts and the soul-searching decisions that are the bread and butter of senior military commanders. Later that night came the acid test. Commander Chris Craig steered Alacrity into Falkland Sound and fired starshell in the direction of Fox Bay, the destination of one of my flights just seven days earlier. A few miles to the north, Alacrity’s radar

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