Falklands Gunner: A Day-by-Day Personal Account of the Royal Artillery in the Falklands War

Chapter 1

The Build Up and Deployment to The Falklands

DAILY NOTES WERE taken throughout the day, rather than as a single entry, hence their staccato format, and recorded in my ‘desk’ diary, of which the transcript for each day is shown below. Additional diary entries were also made, but may not have been written on that particular day, but were, nevertheless, contemporaneous. All these diary entries are shown in italics. Normal text provides either clarification, explanation or relevant anecdotes.

March 1982

9–11 March, Regt CPX

These few days were taken with training, by means of a Regimental Command Post Exercise, on the Regiment’s parade square at our barracks in Aldershot, in order to reinforce and sharpen our drills prior to live firing.

15 March, Regt Ex & Live Firing, Bde Ex

The Regiment then departed to Salisbury Pain to put the whole Regiment through its paces with a Regimental Exercise, which led on to conducting artillery live firing for the Guns. This was immediately followed by a Brigade Exercise.

19 Mar – Argentine ‘scrap merchants’ land on South Georgia - raise Argentine Flag.

22/3 March – Start support to RSA

4th Field Regiment’s support to the Royal School of Artillery (RSA) at Larkhill was due to the change-over of the School’s dedicated support unit. Whilst this change went ahead, the School’s training program continued, with the full range of courses being run. As a Light Gun Regiment, we were an obvious choice, being relatively close by in Aldershot; however, the deployment could not be run from there on a daily basis and we set up at Tilshead’s transit/training establishment in Westdown Camp, right in the middle of Salisbury Plain.

Westdown Camp is both isolated and Spartan and in late winter and early spring offers a bleak existence. Little did we appreciate at that time, as to the importance of this deployment and how we were to draw upon it in the months to come. There’s an old Army adage which simply says ‘train hard – fight easy’, of which the first element of it was certainly tested.

April 1982

2 April – Argentinian forces invade Falklands, British Marines surrender in Stanley.

3 April – South Georgia and Sandwich Islands seized by Argentina.

5 April – British Armada sets sail for Falklands.

8 April – RSA support ends.

9 April – leave starts.

The news of the day was dominated by both the political furnace that was the Argentine invasion of the Falkland Islands and the diplomatic efforts to curry favour on the world stage. Support fell on party lines, with the Spanish speaking world of Central and South America aligning themselves with Argentina and with the Unites States standing beside the United Kingdom. Not least in the news and of most relevance to us, was the monumental military effort, set by the Prime Minister – Margret Thatcher, to deploy a Task Force and retake the islands.

The Task Force’s fighting troops were predominately to come from 3 Commando Brigade Royal Marines (3 Cdo Bde RM), consisting of 40, 42 and 45 Commandos; augmented with its dedicated supporting arms and services: 29 Commando Regiment Royal Artillery (29 Cdo Regt RA), 59 Commando Squadron Royal Engineers, 3 Commando Brigade Air Squadron (3 BAS) and various other Brigade assets. It was quickly established that three fighting units was not sufficient for the task and an extra infantry battalion was desperately needed. At that time, and as a legacy from the troubles in Northern Ireland, the Army had one infantry battalion in rotation on standby, which was known as ‘Spearhead’, with one company at twenty-four hours’ notice, with the remainder following on within three days. The Spearhead Battalion at that time was the 3rd Battalion, Parachute Regiment (3 Para), which was based in Bulford, and was added to the Brigade’s fighting strength. On 9 April, 3 Para sailed with the Commando Brigade on the SS Canberra, following the Task Force that had sailed a few days earlier. Vying for consideration was the 2nd Battalion, Parachute Regiment (2 Para), which was at that time in the role as the Leading Parachute Battalion Group (LPBG). 29 (Corunna) Field Battery Royal Artillery (29 Bty RA) as part of 2 Para’s grouping, was in Direct Support and as such was an integral part of the Battalion’s fighting strength.

The LPBG was in essence the Government’s military ‘firefighters’, who were on five days standby to deploy to anywhere in the world. We were trained and scaled for operations and ready to go with immediate effect – and being such a balanced force, saw ourselves as strong contenders for deployment. Little did we know of how the minds of our leaders in Whitehall worked, as the explanation of our non-inclusion was that we weren’t being sent, just in case we might be needed should a crisis develop!

Robert Fox, in his book Eyewitness Falklands throws a different light onto how 2 Para and ourselves were sent to join the Task Force. At that time, Fox was a reporter and was assigned to cover the conflict at short notice, coming therefore into frequent contact with senior officers. He describes 2 Para’s inclusion as somewhat of a mystery. He tells of their CO, Lieutenant Colonel ‘H’ Jones, as being on holiday, deciding to return to England and lobby the Ministry of Defence for 2 Para’s inclusion, presumably on the strength that we were the LPBG. He cites that ‘H’ successfully managed to make his case and unlike the other fighting units already sent, brought with him his own integral artillery and engineering support.

Needless to say, that throughout this period, the talk amongst us all in the Officers Mess, along with the more senior members of the Battery, was of the military build-up and the possible scenarios that could take place, in the weeks to come. Every newspaper article and news bulletin were avidly digested, as we tried to reason amongst ourselves what might happen. There was one thing that was not disputed and that was the fact that most had absolutely no idea where the Falkland Islands were and if they did, had no idea of what they looked like. I was one of the few who had any inkling of what or where these islands were, solely down to the fact that my father’s brother, Nib, had emigrated out to Argentina in the late 1950s. He went out to work on a very large estancia (farm) for an international British based food company, predominantly rearing beef; and worked his way up to managing one of these vast farmsteads, of approximately 100,000 acres. Having settled, he married a local girl and raised two sons. The irony was not lost on the whole family that had Nib and his wife Yolanda had children a few years earlier, that their eldest would have been of conscription age and could easily have been ‘playing for the other side’. Nib recounted after the war that the substantial English ex-pat community, whilst left in relative peace out in the countryside, felt that their mail was being intercepted by the military Junta and were being watched from afar.

Lieutenant Colonel Tony Holt RA, the Commanding Officer (CO) of 4th Field Regiment Royal Artillery (4 Fd Regt RA), held a Regimental Parade on the main parade square. Whilst it’s traditional for a CO to address his Regiment at the ‘end of term’, this was different, as the unfolding events, were far from normal. He was to brief all pre-leave on the situation and assure the Regiment that ‘this is purely a Commando operation and that we will not be involved. Go away, enjoy your leave and I’ll see you all when we get back after Easter’. Major Tony Rice, 29 Battery’s Battery Commander (BC), on the other hand, firmly believed that the Battery would be involved in proceedings before too long and before the men were dismissed he ordered a Battery Parade at Corunna’s lines.

Tony Rice joined the Battery soon after we returned from Northern Ireland into a role that he was already familiar, having previously served in 7 Parachute Regiment Royal Horse Artillery (7 Para RHA) and knew the Airborne world well. Tall and slimly built, with a deep voice and laconic style, Tony was a direct, uncompromising no-nonsense leader. He trained his battery thoroughly and relentlessly and this was to deliver dividends during the campaign. When the ‘BC’ spoke, in his deliberate and measured tones, everybody listened, leaving every one of us in no doubt where we stood, or what was expected of us. That said, he was fair and fully backed his team. Tony’s hawkish standpoint was simply: we go where 2 Para go.

Notwithstanding the fact that we were on standby within the LPBG, Tony Rice ordered a full checklist of all stores and equipment, ordering deficiencies to be filed with the Quartermaster’s departments prior to departure. He briefed us on the real possibility of our involvement as a Battery and that we were to confirm our contact details prior to going on leave.

12 April – British impose 200-mile-wide war zone.

13 April – To Shropshire

After spending a few days in the Mess and with Jill Harrison, my girlfriend and a Lieutenant in the Women’s Royal Army Corps, at her parents’ house in Pirbright, we headed north to my parents’ home in Shropshire, which is located on the northern outskirts of Wellington, on the edge of Telford.

15 April - The Regiment was warned for operations in the South Atlantic.

16 April – Recalled to barracks over Falkland crisis – ‘Pegasus’.

‘Pegasus’ was the code-word sent out to all personnel for our recall to barracks. One must remember that communication back in 1982 predated the instantaneous world of the internet and mobile phones that we live in now and that it took time for the message to get through to some. The primary method was by telephone and/or telegram, but it was not uncommon to ask the local Police Force to pass on the message. The main recall went out on Saturday the 17th, with all returning by early evening the following day, many from as far afield as the North East.

Gunner Frame was a nineteen-year-old member of D Sub (Gun Detachment) and on Rear Party duties when the recall began: ‘I was on guard duty in Aldershot. They sent the telegrams out with the password Pegasus and we had to get back within twenty-four hours. The buzz was unbelievable, the adrenaline and testosterone. We knew something was coming off. It was big and we were going be the first ones out there.’ His first wife of just five weeks was devastated at the news, ‘we were setting up a new life together and I was off to war’.

It was during the early hours of the 16th at my parents’ home that I proposed to Jill. It was at 11:00 that morning that I took the very brief telephone call, calling me back, and I immediately packed to return to Aldershot. I bade my farewells and was back in barracks by mid-afternoon. Jill followed on and drove over to her parent’s house, some five miles from Aldershot and waited for me there. I broke the news to Tony Rice, who arranged for me to formally see the CO as protocol dictated, as soon as he was available. Despite the developments with our forthcoming deployment, the CO found time to see me and granted me permission to marry.

After seeing the CO, I was given a few hours’ grace and made my way over to Pirbright to formally see Jill’s father. After a very quick celebration, I had to say my goodbyes and drove back to camp. A few days later, I was once again granted a few hours off camp, when Jill and I went into Aldershot to find a ring. Needs must in extremis and we found a ring, albeit far from spectacular, after all I was on a Second Lieutenant’s wage. I made the promise to replace it one day ‘with a proper one’, which she held me to!

Sergeant Joe Walker, B Sub’s Number 1 (the gun detachment’s commander), was from the North East, where a significant number of the Battery hailed from and his story was typical of the recall: ‘Once we eventually went on leave, my family and I went up North, to Seaham, Co, Durham. On receipt of the telegram, I left Denise and our two daughters and returned to camp, being on station within a few hours.

‘To be honest, active service is what you train for. The chances of going are few and far between, but when it comes around it’s what you want. We didn’t know where the Falklands were, but we knew we had a responsibility to them. At the time a lot of patriotism kicked in’.

Whilst a significant number of the Battery hailed from the North East, some came from the opposite end of the country, one being Gunner George Kirvell, whose roots were in the South West. Gunner Kirvell was a nineteen-year-old member of Sergeant Walker’s B Sub and among the Battery’s younger cohort, who told of his recall to Aldershot: ‘I was on leave and back home in Plymouth. At the time, I knew something going at place called the Falklands, but like most people I didn’t know where it was.’ The appreciation of ‘what’, but not ‘where’ was typical of the majority of the Regiment’s gunners at that time.

George Kirvell continued: ‘What I remember the most is, I was having a typical night out drinking with my brother and Dad. He had served during the Second World War, in North Africa and Normandy and was then also aged nineteen or twenty. We were in local pub near to where we lived and at some point during the night the local Police Officer, who my Dad knew, came in looking for me. He told me I had to return to camp and he gave a telegram with ‘Pegasus’ on it, which was the recall word. Anyhow, my Dad said that he and my Mum, would drive me back to Aldershot the next day and then he proceeded to get me very drunk. I can only presume that he knew what the future had in store, but I was obviously oblivious when my Dad said goodbye to me at camp. He offered me a piece of advice which was, if the ships get attacked I was to make my sure I was on deck and not down below; so I would at least have a chance to swim for it, if my ship was hit and started sinking!’

19 April – Argentine sub Santa Fe sunk at South Georgia.

The week was, to say the least, rather busy. Captain David Gibbins, the ‘BK’ and the Battery’s second in command and his staff chased up, through 2 Para, all stores requisitions and issued equipment as and when it arrived. David joined the Battery after his Para training, having served predominantly in Germany, both in Air Defence and more latterly in Field Artillery with 49 Field Regiment. Now, as the Battery’s senior Captain, the Unit’s administration was a prime function of his position and it was an area that he excelled in. David’s eye for detail and meticulous planning, ensured that our needs were met, which at times challenged his dry sense of humour.

It became very clear to us, as more and more information came to light on the Falkland Islands, that our temperate clothing was not suitable nor fit for purpose and to that end Arctic clothing was ordered. One item of equipment that did arrive in time was the new style of military bergen. The old ’58 Pattern’ webbing’s large pack, whilst called that, was far too small to carry what was required. The new bergen was based on a new style metal frame, was considerably bigger, but still aimed at a temperate theatre. Getting all one’s Arctic clothing, rations and ammunition packed would be a challenge later on and compromises had to be made. Time was spent out on the ranges zeroing our personal weapons, as well as preparing the Command Posts (CP) and guns. The biggest challenge that week was getting to grips with the new Clansman radio system and that task fell to Sergeant John Maxwell, as the Signals Sergeant, and his assistant Bombardier Malcolm Hagan. They arrived in pallets on the back of a 3-ton lorry and were unloaded outside the signals store. The delivery grew a crowd of onlookers, who were eager to see what all the fuss was about. The consensus was it looked like we had been issued with something that actually worked! These new radios were generally a fraction of the size of the old ones, with the back pack radio using the same metal frame as the new bergen. The Clansman used a dialup frequency selector, so anybody with minimal training could work it, which is in complete contrast to the old black art of the ‘frequency tuning’ required with the old sets. The unexpected bonus was to be found in the, when the team removed the old bulky equipment, freeing up valuable space in the back of the CP land rover.

Behind the scenes, David Gibbins as BK worked very closely with Captain David Wood, 2 Para’s Adjutant, in his capacity as the Battery UEO (movement officer), on the embarkation plan. It was identified that the guns, vehicles and stores, along with a small maintenance party, would be loaded on the MV Europic Ferry, at Southampton, with the main body sailing on the Norland. The Europic Ferry was a relatively small Ro-Ro ferry taken up from trade – STUFT. She had a red hull, with a white superstructure and came in at some 4,000 tons, gross weight. She was 450ft long with a 70ft beam. The BK went straight down to Southampton to meet with the ship’s Captain, Chris Clarke, to discuss the loading plan. In true BK fashion, David identified the need for additional washing machines! Captain Clarke’s solution was for a Portacabin to be bolted onto the deck, with a whole suite of washer/dryers hooked up.

The subject of entertainment was also brought up and left in the hands of the Captain. By the time David was to embarked, VCRs, videos and paperbacks appeared, some donated willingly from local shops. Being a STUFT ship by its very definition, meant that there was no natural link, or line of communication with the Navy and as such, STUFT ships were assigned a small Naval Party to act as the conduit. On the Europic, that fell to Naval Party 1720, under the command of Commander A. B. Gough RN.

20 April

Easter Leave ended at 14:00 hours, with the balance of the Regiment parading at their respective Battery Lines. Whilst our recall wasn’t a secret in any way, one or two individuals were surprised to see 29 Battery in the full swing of preparations and were oblivious to our recall. It is easy to forget in today’s world of instantaneous news, just how easy it was to be kept out of the loop.

22 April

Throughout this build up period, the BC was heavily involved in the planning that was taking part at 2 Para. The background administrative work was done by the BK which left the BC to concentrate on the operational planning, knowing that getting both everybody and everything embarked was well in hand. Tony Rice gave his parting instructions and leaves the Battery to fly directly to Ascension, as part of 2 Para’s ‘R’ (reconnaissance) Group.

At 17:00 hours that afternoon, David was in Southampton and checking up on the preparations, when he received confirmation that the Europic was to sail at 06:00 hours the next morning. He put in a quick phone call back to Aldershot, in order to get the Battery’s six 105mm Light Guns, their One Tonne vehicles and stores, along with the maintenance party, down to the docks for loading as soon as possible. David wasn’t expecting this turn of events and had to rush back to Aldershot and pick up his kit, before returning. Thankfully, his journey took him past Winchester and David was able to visit his parents and say goodbye. When he returned back to the Europic, loading was well under way and continued right through the night, almost up until the point of sailing.

23 April

The mad rush to get everything loaded and working through the night, had taken its toll and everybody had crashed in their bunks just before they left Southampton. They were to be told later of the crowds of well-wishers waving as they sailed. Loaded on board were 29 Battery’s six guns, vehicles and stores, under the command of the BK, who now acted as OC Troops, the senior military person on board, along with a small seventeen-man maintenance party. Leading the gun team was Sergeant Sprotson, assisted by Lance Bombardier Knight, along with Gunners Cowburn, Dixon, Foster, Gowland, Norris, Thompson and Wight. Lance Bombardier Saxby was there to look after the survey and command post Land Rover and equipment. Assisting David with the Battery’s stores and equipment were Sergeant McGlinchey, Bombardier Elsby and Gunner Earp. The last members of this team were our REME section of Sergeant Jones, Corporal Hilderbrando and Lance Corporal Giles.

Also embarked were three Scout helicopters and a detachment from 656 Squadron Army Air Corps under Captain John Greenhalgh, along with members and equipment from a Field Hospital, which included Captain Mike von Bertele, who later caught up with 3 Para, as their doctor. It was most fortuitous in having Mike von Bertele on board, as he was able to bring everybody up to speed with First Aid Training. Stored below were 2 Para’s equipment, fuel and ammunition, along with approximately 1,000 tons of artillery ammunition.

The reason for the mad rush and pressure to sail was soon explained, as the Europic was required to conduct a ‘compass swing’ calibration and sailed just around the coast to the Naval Base at Portland to complete it. It also provided an opportunity for the Naval liaison officer to sort out the fleet communications. David was informed around 17:00 hours that they would be sailing at 06:00 hours the following morning. In his capacity as OC Troops, David took the decision to grant the embarked troops a final ‘run ashore’, with strong words of advice of what would happen if not back by midnight.

‘There were three officers on board,’ recalled David Gibbins, ‘me, John Greenhalgh the pilot and Mike von Bertele, 3 Para’s Doc. We rang up Portland and stated that three Captains were alongside and would happily entertain three ladies for dinner that evening! Arrangements were made, especially as the Navy female officers thought we were Navy Captains. A good night was had by all, especially as Doc’s brother ran a local wine bar. We missed the second tearful farewell from Blighty as we were all sleeping it off’.

24 April

Back in Aldershot we were ready to go in all respects and had said our goodbyes. We paraded in accordance with the movement instruction and awaited the arrival of the coaches. After what seemed to be an eternal wait, word finally came through that the Norland wasn’t ready for us and that we were to be stood down for twenty-four hours. After handing our weapons back into the armoury, we dispersed back to our respective accommodation, with those married personnel going home to their families. With Jill only being five miles down the road in Pirbright, I was granted clearance to see her, but was required back by 23:59 hours.

25 April – British forces (RM) invade and recapture South Georgia.

We paraded as instructed and once again we were again stood down, following the same routine as before. The reason given was exactly the same and we again dispersed, but with the caveat that things could change and that those living off camp had to remain contactable at all times. Again, I managed to get the all clear to see Jill, who along with her parents, was most surprised to see me at the door.

Chapter 2

Sailing South

Monday, 26 April (D-25)

South Georgia capture completed. Set sail south on SS Norland at 1300 hrs from Portsmouth. Sea very calm. Practice RAS with Grey Rover. Intrepid joined us off Portland Bill. Tested rear heli pad. A day for settling in and looking about. (clocks back 1 hr at midnight)

Eventually the coaches arrived at Lille Barracks, to take us the Naval Docks in Portsmouth. The weather was fair and mild, with cloudy sunshine and spirits were high as we finally boarded the coaches. Considering that final farewells were made on the first occasion, some found the ‘get on the bus … get off the bus’ scenario most frustrating, not only for members of the Battery, but for families as well. Part of the reason was that the requisitioned STUFT ship – MV Norland, under the command of P&O’s Captain M. Ellerby, had to be converted from a North Sea ferry to a troop ship, which required the construction of two helicopter landing pads; along with the fact that nobody seemed to understand the logistics of what was involved, in making the conversion. It was very much a case of left hand and right hand failing to communicate, hence the frustration.

On arrival at the docks on 26 April, we were issued our individual Norland boarding cards, detailing our cabin and assembled area. On the reverse is the deck layout particular to the cabin number. Also shown is James Watson’s British Forces Identity Card, the reverse of which sets out instructions for use if captured, with the stark phrase ‘Tear off duplicate portion and hand to interrogator. GIVE NO OTHER INFORMATION’. (Courtesy of James Watson)

Work commenced on the flight decks in Hull, but in order to prevent any unnecessary delays in completion, the work was carried out as the ship sailed from Hull to Portsmouth and was finished just prior to docking in Portsmouth. The Norland had a black hull, with the words ‘NORTH SEA FERRY’ on its sides, a white superstructure and came in at some 13,000 tons gross weight. She was 562ft long with an 83ft beam and what was being asked of her was a world away from her normal Hull - Rotterdam routine.

By the time we had reached Portsmouth most were sat in quiet contemplation. The mood was quickly broken on arrival, when we first sighted the Norland, with the Battery Sergeant Major (BSM) gripping the embarkation proceedings. Our BSM was Warrant Officer 2 Bernie Winch and he was the senior non-commissioned member of the Battery, who in barracks was the BC’s right hand man.

The quayside was a hive of activity and no time was lost in getting on board. Despite embarking to go off to war, North Sea Ferries issued each and every one of us a standard ‘Rotterdam–Hull’ boarding card, detailing our berth and designated assembly area, importantly it had a deck map. We were allocated our bunks, the officers two to a cabin, with Captain James Watson and Lieutenant Bill Moore sharing, in cabin 1014 as the ‘singlies’, with Captain Bob Ash and I as the ‘pads’ in cabin 1009, which importantly for me had a porthole. The terms ‘singlies’ and ‘pads’ refers to one’s marital status and as I was now engaged, I was effectively married off, with the term ‘pad’ the name referring to a married quarter.

Also noted on our boarding cards was our designated assembly station, which was the upper aft Snug Bar. Bob Ash was the senior Captain and Forward Observation Officer (FOO) and was the taller of the two forward observers. He was lithe and athletic, with a dry wit and a passion for tennis. Bob’s stand out quality was his mellow take on life and laid-back approach, making him very easy company. James Watson was equally athletic, also enjoyed tennis and was also a keen hockey player. James’s sharp, dry sense of humour worked in tandem with Bob’s and the two of them were equally matched. The only difference being that James was more urbane and saw himself as the most eligible and sociable officer in the Battery.

Bill Moore was the senior Lieutenant and the Battery’s Gun Position Officer (GPO), who as such, was responsible for all matters tactical and technical on the position. Bill was a graduate officer and talented sportsman, having already represented the Gunners at rugby and cricket, whilst at university. He transitioned from being one of the Command Post Officers (CPO) to GPO prior to the Northern Ireland tour some twelve months earlier, when I joined the Battery as a CPO.

The position of GPO is somewhat unique in the Army, in that on operations, the numbers under command are similar to that of an infantry company, with the level of responsibility expected of a far more senior rank, with the GPO setting the tone and temperament on the position. Bill was Para-trained and Airborne through and through, a natural leader, whose measured and deliberate leadership style, backed up with a solid tactical and technical depth of knowledge, sat well with the Gunners. Bill had high standards and rightly expected the same from everyone else and failing to not live up to them was not an option. It was clear from those early days that Bill was destined for higher command, rising to the rank of Major General and was awarded the CBE for his services, as well as holding the post of Master-General of the Ordnance, shortly before his retirement.

Portsmouth dockside from the Norland’s rail, with ‘Corunna’s’ families waving goodbye, 26 April 1982.

The Warrant Officers and Sergeants were allocated between two to four per cabin, depending on seniority. With the junior ranks being in the majority, four to a cabin was the norm. All the cabins were of a typical ferry standard, with four berths, a shower, sink and toilet and were not designed for a lengthy time at sea. After dumping kit, which for the majority due to the lack of space was in the shower cubicle, we all, to a man, went out onto the rail to watch the farewells and general proceedings.

Sergeant Joe Walker sets the scene once embarked: ‘In my cabin there was Staff Sergeant John McQueenie, Sergeant Ernie Dobson, me and a Sergeant from 2 Para, who was a sniper, but I can’t remember his name.’

The time came to slip the moorings and the ship shuddered as the propellers started to turn. We slipped away from the docks and passed through the forts, crammed with well-wishers, acting as sentinels at the harbour’s mouth.

‘I will never forget leaving from Portsmouth on board the Norland and actually seeing my family on the quayside.’ Continued Joe Walker. ‘We left them many times, sometimes for six-month Northern Ireland tours, but this felt very different.’

As the Norland turned to starboard and into the Solent, the ship keeled over to port and I had to go and lie down! After a short ‘rest’ I took my camera up onto the rear flight deck, where I captured the thin outline of southern England on the distant horizon, at the end of what seemed a very long wake. I thought at the time that this may well be my last look at ‘Blighty’. As we entered the Channel, the ship rolled and I once again retired to my bunk.

Like Europic, the Norland was also assigned a Naval Party, with Lieutenant Commander C. Esplin-Jones RN commanding Norland’s Naval Party. The small Royal Naval detachment had the task of looking after our interests whist at sea and acted as our conduit to the Task Force. Whenever there were any messages to be passed, or news to tell during the day, it was broadcast, or ‘piped’ over the ship’s main broadcast (tannoy). Pipes were generally both monotone and short and to the point, but attempts were made to ‘lighten’ them as time went on. As we sailed south, one of the naval ratings charged with making pipes, tried to put a ‘Hi Di Hi campers’ spin