Hearts Of Oak.

A painting of the O Class submarine HMS Onyx

It’s pertinent to regale this wee story today as we cover 43 years since the Falklands War.

The conflict was in great danger of being lost, for lots of reasons…senior officers from the different services having pissing matches, making enemies of one another as opposed to concentrating on the real enemy…Argentina. The Argentinians are getting the upper hand with some fearless flying by their pilots, therefore making a difference with each mission…sinking or damaging ships, and forcing the British task force to rethink on the float.

An SAS patrol had already been sent by helicopter from the task force to the mainland to get eyes on the planes that were doing the damage. Sadly, they had to abort for a number of reasons and go to Chile.

Enter our patrol of 8 men from 6Tp, B Sqn, 22 SAS Regiment, and 2 fine SBS coxswains. Our task, to follow on successfully from the failure of the heli mission, except now to enter sub-surface by HMS Onyx.

We had all trained with O Class subs before the war, including Onyx back in the UK’s shores.

Float on float off.

But this was conflict, the sub had already carried out other missions around the Falkland Islands alone and with the SBS. It was breaking records all over the place, longest time at sea for one, let alone on operations during a conflict 8000 miles from home. It was also carrying a live torpedo jammed inside a smashed tube…caused either by a whale or hitting a subsurface rocky outcrop?

Once on board this tiny submarine, crammed with long-term supplies in spaces where there weren’t spaces, you would think that there was lots of room for an extra 10 men, our gear for war, and our two boats and outboard engines and fuel.

We were welcomed aboard, the crew were cool…to a man, from the lowest rating to the captain. We did a build up for the mission around off lying islands in the Falklands, getting on and off the casing, float off, float on, with our boats…cutting down the time with each attempt. Boats, kit and ourselves from inside the submarine to making our way to shore in just a few minutes. then back to the sub and the reverse happening and back inside and off subsurface.

The key over the 5 day build up was the temperament of the crew. Each man was a character, a book could have been written about each of them. Captain’s rounds, which occurred at various points through the 24hrs, would involve those not operating at that time standing to attention at various points of the sub dressed in all sorts of attire. One rating dressed as a WW2 German officer. One cross-dresser. One in his underpants. There was no washing, the food was awesome given the restrictions of space. Hot bunking was the only way to get somewhere to sleep.

I chose to sleep on top of a torpedo in the forward end…the coolest part of the submarine. I put a lightweight blanket over it first as I was told that a scratch could render it useless.

At one point, they had a drill where they shut off bulkhead doors should a part of the sub take in water. I just saw a face through a small round window after waking up to the torpedo hold door get slammed shut. Is this real…or a drill? I had no idea. Thankfully after a few minutes, the door opened again…the rating telling me that there are no apologies, it’s what we do to save the rest and the sub…I immediately got it!

These lads look like any other lad that you would see in a pub in an evening back home. But to me they were unique, they were tough, they knew the risks, they spent long hours subsurface in cramped spaces, they lived and worked with the basics of everything…and they loved their submarine.

After lots of chitchat with the crew, we got to know some of them well.

After doing some operations on the ground on the Falklands with D Sqn, we were told that our operation to the mainland was on… cleared by Thatcher and her war room.

Back to the sub, back to the awesome crew…and on to Argentina, to be landed ashore by the two SBS coxwains who would then return the boats to the submarine.

After the periscope recce of where we were to land, the submarine pulled back, lay on the bottom of the sea…and we all waited for the final Go Go Go.

Once received the adrenalin kicked in.

Here we go, an 8-man invasion of Argentina to stop their planes from taking off and sinking our ships.

It would be the smallest invasion in military history ha ha…

On the way in, extremely close to floating off the sub, the captain got a message to abort immediately.

The Argentinians on the Falklands had surrendered…they obviously heard that we were coming!

The crew cheered and hugged one another once the captain announced what had happened over the intercom. They deserved it, they had endured a long trip in arduous conditions.

We were gutted…”what if” was ringing alarm bells through my wee brain.

It turns out that we were not at war under International law. Therefore with the surrender, if we had been caught, killed, or took out any Argentinians while on the mainland, it would have led to all sorts of diplomatic and political problems.

But during the trip back to the fleet anchored in San Carlos waters in the Falklands, I got to understand these amazing young lads. The amazing captain too, who had kept up morale, kept the submarine operational despite the hung-up torpedo in it’s tube, navigated difficult waters with basic mapping…and they still had to sail back to safety, then home to Portsmouth.

Today I remember this awesome crew and their awesome captain…43 years later.

The only words that come to me…Hearts Of Oak.