I Never Made The Falklands

or Some Not so Exciting Stories From 32 Years Ago

Paul Atkinson (Medical Assistant)

I sailed on MV Astronomer and got into the exclusion zone a day after the ceasefire!! Spent the next 4 months floating around the Falklands and spent my 21st birthday throwing up (due to seasickness) somewhere off South Georgia.

Ken Dunn and I fitted out a sick bay on Atlantic conveyor and when it came to sail they only wanted one medic. Me n ken tossed a coin and he won the toss and sailed on her!!

Dave Tipple (Leading Seaman)

As was I on Revenge in refit with you, but we did get to paint a Hull trawler that had been TUFT*. Everybody was ready to go. When SP Anderson told Elvis Costello that he could not go, he was going to stow away on the trawler.

Andy Mullins (Medical Assistant)

We had a Clear Lower Deck for single men, they wanted volunteers to go down south, I volunteered and bugger all came of it, They "said" they wanted 5 fairly senior MA's to stay and train RNR MA's..........I ended up in Mercury Sickbay!

Dathan 'Spike' Hughes (Weapons Electrical Mechanic)

I joined the Invincible with a survivor of HMS Sheffield, at Ascension Islands by helo, on the way back. I stood procedure Alpha (Gosport side of course) into Pompey. Does that make it into the 'I never made it' dit book? I went there 10 years later with Derek Golding. Not sure which was the most dangerous time...

Pete Chilcott (Leading Medical Assistant)

32 years ago, just after South Georgia and the Falklands had been taken, it was clear that ships were coming out of reserve or TUFT* and that there would be need for medics. Paul Stock and I were stood by HMS REVENGE in refit. Feeling that this is what we had trained for, we would volunteer to go South and play our part. We walked over to the Jimmy and explained our wishes. 'The deterrent comes first' was his response. Back we walked and that was the end of our Falklands.

*Taken Up From Trade

Veteran? Veteran of what?

I asked some of my British colleagues whether or not others were comfortable with the term 'Veteran' or being referred to as one. I'm not. This is a comment I got in reply from a colleague ex British Army medic, and all round good guy (where's my bloody book?!).
________________________________________

It's because when you were growing up all that while ago, a veteran was a crusty who had served near 5-years through Normandy to Japan and back to Berlin while slaughtering the enemy on a daily basis from beneath their half-deployed parachute canopy throwing the daggers of shot-in-the-air comrades; or had shot and killed their first of many at a range of 3 feet in an enemy ambush in densest Borneo; or had faced off the bad guys in Suez in a lone tank with a track blown off by a 1.4lb'er and an issue of just 4 rounds; or swam through burning oil after a 100ft escape via a torpedo tube; or was on the Hood during its finest hour...etc.  

Perhaps you feel you do not measure to up to that childhood awe of the term, "Veteran"; the men who served to protect your freedom and jump the queue in Woolworths as grumpy old gits to whom we 'owed a debt' and an oz of tobacco, and who looked nothing like the glamorous actors in your favourite movies because they were REAL soldiers, sailors, and airmen.

Face it, you ARE that grumpy, crusty old git; you gave your time to Serve in some overly-hyped leaky, sweat-stained old 'boat'; you worked to improve the care of the wounded; you did your best to throw daggers; and you faced DMETA without loosing more than a handful - or two of marbles, and you sat watch while others slept just knowing you were there while peers dozed through life in a glaze of ignorant 'normality'. Top it all, you even volunteer to preserve the memory and memories of Veteran kin safe on Her Venerable Ladyship, The Alliance. YOU are a Veteran. Get over it. Wear it with dignity and wear it with pride. Just saying. God Bless You, and all who HAD to f'ing Suffer to Sail With You x

And another thing!

My particular brand of middle aged grumpiness comes from a couple of things. People, particularly some ex servicemen, who see things posted on the SuperInterwebhighway, and take them as gospel. The second comes from people who see an item on news, rarely more than a minute or two long, and react in a ranty, extra grumpy way without having all the information. Particularly if it reinforces their own prejudices. Research, people, research and not just the Daily Mail.

So yes, that's me being grumpy about grumpy people. Ironic really. Still, in half an hour, I shall say Zvadreite to poorly educated Bulgarians, they will smile as they say Zvadreite back, our faces will beam and all will be good with the world.

Be happy people

Another Sunday Morning

Sunday morning, lying in bed, a cup of tea, some grown up people talking on Broadcasting House, on BBC Radio 4 and that same programme closing with Richard Burton reading the opening words to Under Milk Wood. An hour long Sunday oasis.

And to go with that oasis......this -

Standing Room Only

Today for the first time in my life I, and quite a few others, had to stand during a funeral as all the available seating had been taken. Now, that's quite a testimony to the popularity and to the character of the person who had died. I had only met Linda once but had worked with her husband, Al, and wanted to show some support, whatever that means. He, too, is one of the 'good guys'. He spoke warmly of his wife, of how she treated others, and of how others helped her with her own issues. It's always tough listening to a man eulogising his wife when they are still only middle aged with a family. It was even tougher listening to her son talking before Al. He openly admitted he was a young man with flaws and who had made errors. But he was equally candid about how his mum had always provided support and encouragement and had not dismissed him when he strayed. She offered him advice on how to correct his faltering path and how best to continue with his life. I'm sure Linda was proud of her son in life and I hope he believes that pride will always be around him in later life.

I can't help thinking that just about every adult male in the world would like to think their own mum treated them the same way and in their imagination, they are still a child cuddling up to her. I can still remember that softness and that fresh, 'clean' aroma of my mum when I was in my 40s getting my last cuddles.

No Princes In The Line

I came across this the other day. It seems a fair observation...

Princes in the Line

Words and Music: Tom Lewis ©2006
(Available for free download here.)

The heir to England's throne stood proud, before a wall in France,
“Once more unto the breach, dear friends!”; he bid the troops advance,
His armour, and his honour, bright; all men could see them shine,
So they followed to the battle for their prince was in the line.

When Charles's cavaliers were called to muster for the king,
The monarch's only nephew heard the call to duty ring,
Foremost in the fighting rode Rupert Of The Rhine,
There was honour in the battle when a prince was in the line.

Chorus:
(But/For) the children of our rulers will not join the fight today,
(and) Kings of Commerce never send their sons into the fray,
The children of the poor will fight the wars that they design,
But what honour's in the battle with no princes in the line?

The South Pacific blazed, and rang with Freedom's fire-alarm,
The name of 'old Joe' Kennedy could keep his sons from harm,
But the Navy needed brave young men; this was the place and time,
So a Once-And-Future President stepped up into the line.

Chorus

A bitter South Atlantic wind blew over icy sea,
The Queen of England's son flew out to face the enemy,
As target for the missiles, to protect the fleet so fine.
This argument's not: 'Right or wrong?' - but: 'Princes in the line?'

Chorus

Prime Ministers and Presidents take us to war with lies,
In parliament and congress they wear flags for their disguise,
Their kids wear trendy camouflage while sipping vintage wine,
But they will not wear the uniform, and step into the line.

Chorus:
For the children of our rulers will not join the fight today,
(and) Kings of Commerce never send their sons into the fray,
The children of the poor will fight the wars that they design,
But what honour's in the battle with no princes in the line?
But what honour's in the battle with no princes in the line?
If there was honour in the battle... there'd be princes in the line.

Return to Tom Lewis: Index to Song Lyrics

Thoughts From Remembrance Day 2013

Just as we finished Piping the Still this morning and after the salute from from Fort Blockhouse, we could hear the Last Post being sounded on a bugle in the distance. The contrast of the simple shrillness of the Bosun's Call with the the faint but tuneful bugle was striking and poignant.

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I am watching my HD recording of the Remembrance Parade from this morning. The various dress uniforms of  the various units look so vivid. Now, I'm obviously biased but there is something simply but supremely elegant and timeless in the way the Royal Navy platoons look in their simple black greatcoats, white caps, belts and gaiters.

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At RNSM today, I paused for a moment to think of a distinguished gentleman and father of an old friend who had been with us in the same place last year but is no longer with us.