harrier falklands 1982

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HARRIER DOWN!Falklands Air Combat

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In total, the British Task Force sent to re-take the Falklands lost ten of its Harrier aircraft; five to accidents and another

five directly due to enemy action. Gordon Ramsey presents the pilot’s accounts of the combat losses and visits the scene of

some of the crash sites on the Falkland Islands.

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In total, the British Task Force sent to re-take the Falklands lost ten of its Harrier aircraft; five to accidents and another

five directly due to enemy action. Gordon Ramsey presents the pilot’s accounts of the combat losses and visits the scene of

some of the crash sites on the Falkland Islands.some of the crash sites on the Falkland Islands.

HARRIER DOWN!

Falklands Air Combat

O

NCE BATTLE was joined

with Argentinian forces

when the Task Force

reached the Falkland Islands it

immediately became apparent

that this was not necessarily going

to be a walkover. For one thing,

the Argentinian air force was

prepared and ready. Additionally,

a formidable array of anti-aircraft

defences were ranged against British

aircraft. Inevitably, there were

going to be casualties and several of

these were sustained by the Harrier

force, with the first occurring on

4 May over Goose Green when Lt

Nick Taylor was shot down. Sadly,

he was killed. Fellow 800 NAS pilot,

Flt Lt David Morgan, tells the story.

A BLAZING

TRAIL OF DEBRIS

‘As I finished my brief lunch I heard the roar of Sea Harriers ‘landing-on’ and was in the briefing room in time to greet Ted Ball as he walked in.

‘Hi Ted’, I said, ‘How did the attack work out?’

he was killed. Fellow 800 NAS pilot,

Flt Lt David Morgan, tells the story.

and was in the briefing room in time to

LEFT:Bob Iveson’s 1 Squadron Harrier, XZ988, at Ascension Island. (ALL IMAGES VIA AUTHOR)


There was a slight pause before he answered: ‘OK, but we lost Nick’.

For a second, I was completely stunned. ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

‘They got him - and he didn’t get out’ said Ted in a voice that reflected both fatigue and realisation that we were not immortal after all.

A few of us gathered round as ‘Gordie’ (Gordon Batt) and Ted debriefed. All had gone well initially, the three of them arriving at their initial point in good order and without encountering opposition.

The first sign of trouble occurred when they were only thirty seconds or so from the target. ‘Gordie’s’ radar warning receiver had burst into life, emitting the shrill warning of a gun radar lock. He broke right, directly in front of Nick, and flicked his airbrake out to deploy chaff. This broke the radar lock, and he was able to pull hard left again and continue his attack. Nick carried on towards Goose Green and was hit by a 35 mm high explosive round. Ted’s gunsight film showed his aircraft in

the latter stages of the attack as it crossed the airfield boundary. A large explosion shattered the fuselage just aft of the cockpit and the aircraft became an instant fireball. As we watched the film, frame by frame, the fuselage began to disintegrate and ploughed into the ground. It was not survivable; no one could have escaped from that blazing trail of debris. There was a long silence, punctuated only by a quiet: ‘Shit!’. We had lost our first pilot.

EASY MEAT FOR

ARGENTINE GUNNERS

I did not know Nick very well. He’d finished his Sea Harrier course shortly before I arrived at Yeovilton and had been appointed to 800 NAS for his first tour of duty. He was an ex-helicopter pilot like myself, and was married to the WREN officer on 707 NAS, the Commando Sea King training squadron, also at Yeovilton. His wife was one of a team who had volunteered to break the news of any casualties to their families. Unfortunately, the first name to come through was that of her husband. I

There was a slight pause before he There was a slight pause before he answered: ‘OK, but we lost Nick’.

For a second, I was completely stunned. ‘What are you talking about?’ I asked.

‘They got him - and he didn’t get out’ said Ted in a voice that reflected both fatigue and realisation that we were not immortal after all.

A few of us gathered round as ‘Gordie’ (Gordon Batt) and Ted debriefed. All had gone well initially, the three of them arriving at their initial point in good order and without encountering opposition.

ABOVE: Lt Nick Taylor’s Harrier, XZ450, just prior to the Falklands War.

BELOW: Lt Nick Taylor.

BELOW RIGHT: Lt Nick Taylor’s grave at Goose Green. without encountering opposition.




can only guess at the horror she felt when she read the signal.

We ran through the attack in detail to ascertain what had caused Nick’s demise and decided the most likely reason was that his aircraft was not fitted with a radar warning receiver. The airframe had been allocated to British Aerospace at Dunsfold to carry out trials of the Sea Eagle anti-ship missile. Unfortunately for Nick the trials equipment had been mounted in the space used for the RWR. It meant he was blind to any electronic threat. We were fairly sure that Nick had flown through Gordie’s chaff cloud as he manoeuvred against the gun radar and had been ‘locked up’ without knowing it. The rest was inevitable. Nick had been easy meat for the Argentine gunners. He was buried on the edge of the airfield where he fell and his grave is tended to this day by the grateful residents of Goose Green. They regard him as one of their own. He will never be lonely.’

IMPACT OF

EXPLODING SHELLS

Flt Lt Jeff Glover of 1 Squadron, RAF, was the only POW from the air component of the Task Force, captured after having been shot down on a reconnaissance flight over Port Howard, West Falkland, on 21 May.

‘I climbed to 8,000ft to conserve fuel and stooged around over the centre of West Falkland for about a quarter of an hour to give a little time for things to quieten down at Port Howard. I wanted to make my second run from a different direction but there was not a lot of choice because Mount Maria is immediately to the west of the settlement. I decided to run in heading north-east. That was a mistake because I found myself heading straight into the sun and had to concentrate much more on flying the aircraft than watching what was happening outside. The aircraft shuddered under the impact of exploding shells - first one,

then two more in rapid succession. The aircraft flicked into a violent and uncontrollable roll to the right. I waited until the aircraft was rotated through 320⁰ and pulled the ejector seat handle.

WE WERE ALL

FIRING AT YOU

There was a crash above my head as the explosive charge shattered the canopy. As I was blasted into the 600mph wind my left arm was wrenched back and I passed out.

When I came to I was under water. I worked out which way was up and swam to the surface. I came up and saw my parachute floating in the water in front of me. I had a good look around and saw the shore about 200yds away. I started trying to swim towards it on my back, but got nowhere fast. I had not released my parachute harness. So I gave that up and started to think things out. I was in the process of releasing the pack connectors, before inflating my dinghy, when I heard shouting. Looking around I saw about ten Argentine soldiers standing on the shore.

the space used for the RWR. It meant he was blind to any electronic threat. We were fairly sure that Nick had flown through Gordie’s chaff cloud as he manoeuvred against the gun radar and had been ‘locked up’ without knowing it. The rest was inevitable. Nick had been easy meat for the Argentine gunners. He was buried on the edge of the airfield where he fell and his grave is tended to this day by and his grave is tended to this day by the grateful residents of Goose Green. They regard him as one of their own. He will never be lonely.’

uncontrollable roll to the right. I waited

320⁰ and pulled the ejector seat handle.

When I came to I was under water.

TOP:The ejector seat from Nick Taylor’s Harrier at Goose Green, marked with the serial number XZ450.

TOP LEFT & BELOW:Cannon shell, cannon shell linkages and portion of roundel from Lt Nick Taylor’s Harrier.

BELOW: The wreckage of Lt Taylor’s Harrier at Goose Green.

EXPLODING SHELLS WE WERE ALL

can only guess at the horror she felt when she read the signal. IMPACT OF

EXPLODING SHELLS


WE WERE ALL

can only guess at the horror she felt when she read the signal. IMPACT OF

EXPLODING SHELLS


WE WERE ALL




Then, a rowing boat put out with half a dozen soldiers on board. In the front of the boat was an officer, and under his direction they came alongside me and hauled me on board; as they lifted me my arm hurt like hell. The officer spoke to me in good English. He said he was a doctor, asked where it hurt and said I would be alright. He would look after me. One of the things I asked him was: ‘What shot me down?’ He replied: ‘Everything, we were all firing at you’.

We were rowed to the shore and got out of the boat. The officer had a

motorbike and I was put on the pillion, riding off down a rough track with a soldier on each side jogging along and supporting me. I was holding my left arm with my right in the most comfortable position I could find. I was bleeding rather a lot from my face, and could see the blood dripping onto the back of the officer’s tunic.

We continued on the motorbike for about 300yds before we arrived at Port Howard Social Club which had been requisitioned as a medical centre. I spent about thirty-six hours in Port Howard before being moved by helicopter to Goose Green where I spent a night. Some of the young officers were keen to try out their English on me and asked if I knew Nick Taylor who had been shot down and killed at Goose Green.

When I said I had known him, they expressed sorrow at his death. The following

evening we went on to Port Stanley where I spent a couple of nights in a large medical centre. On the night of the 24th I boarded a C-130 Hercules to fly to the mainland. Early in June, I was flown to Chamical airbase in La Roja province in the north of Argentina where things were a bit more difficult.

At the time I didn’t realise I was their only POW and felt I had let the squadron down. It was my first sortie. We’d only taken six planes down with us and I lost one of them almost immediately, so I was pretty fed up.’

LOW AND FAST

Sqn Ldr Bob Iveson, also of 1 Squadron, was brought down by the same guns that downed Nick Taylor on his second visit to Goose Green on 27 May.

Then, a rowing boat put out with ABOVE: These poor quality snaps, from an Argentinian soldier, show the moment Flt Lt Jeff Glover was brought ashore at Port Howard.

BELOW: Jeff Glover’s Harrier, XZ972, leaves Atlantic Conveyor.

motorbike and I was put on the pillion, motorbike and I was put on the pillion, riding off down a rough track with riding off down a rough track with

known him, they expressed sorrow at his death. The following

evening we went on to Port Stanley where I spent a couple of nights in a

motorbike and I was put on the pillion, motorbike and I was put on the pillion, evening we went on to Port Stanley



‘Back again in our cockpits we waited for our launch time. Launch up the ski-jump and back over the Falklands once more. Several targets were in the offing and I was told to go for a different gun this time but I neither saw it nor received any detailed information about its precise location. It was a secondary target anyway, but I went round for a second look and on that pass detected company positions. I released my CBUs and it was, I think, a good attack.

I assumed the Paratroopers were in trouble and needed every form of assistance they could get, and decided I would give this attack everything I had. So I came in again, low and fast, to use my 30mm guns. Normally this is tactically inadvisable but in view of the ground situation, it was a must.

FLAMES LICKING INTO

THE COCKPIT

The gun attack worked well, giving the Argentine troops a long burst along their trenches before pulling off. I reversed my flight path down to 100 feet when I felt hits, one closely followed by the other. They must have been fairly heavy calibre as the shock through the aircraft was very noticeable. Two heavy thumps. Almost immediately the fire warning light

came on and I detected fumes in the cockpit.

Suddenly, the controls froze completely. I thought I must have been hit in the hydraulic control systems. Shortly after this the controls cleared, but when I carried out a rapid cockpit check I found I was losing hydraulic pressure at an alarming rate. I punched the fire extinguisher system and checked in the mirror. Looking along the top of the aircraft I saw flames. Smoke started pouring into the cockpit, then the controls went slack and the aircraft went into a dive.

I managed to arrest the angle by vectoring the engine nozzles and the aircraft’s nose picked up. Although I had corrected the angle of dive, flames started licking into the cockpit itself.

The Pegasus engine was still running in fine style but it was obviously a situation I couldn’t sustain without useable flying controls so I pulled the ejection handle. I must have passed out for a few seconds because the next thing I knew I was flying horizontally through the air and going straight for a fireball. My burning aircraft!

There were a few tense moments at that point, but fortunately the main ‘chute opened and I dropped clear of the fireball.

NIGHT ATTACK ON

GOOSE GREEN

I think I was on the ‘chute for only about five or ten seconds. It was really quick. As I landed I couldn’t see very well, as my eyes were affected by the high speed wind blasting my face during ejection. I did know, however, that I was on the wrong side of the lines. Seeing dots coming down the hill in the distance my immediate reaction was that they were enemy troops looking for me.

On reflection, I thought they could have been animals but one can’t be

lines. Seeing dots coming down the hill

ABOVE LEFT:The wing of Jeff Glover’s Harrier is uncovered during a recent site visit.

ABOVE RIGHT: The impact point of Jeff Glover’s Harrier photographed recently.

TOP: Jeff Glover’s Log Book, Pilot’s Notes,

LEFT: The Rolls-Royce Pegasus engine from Jeff Glover’s Harrier pictured at the crash site with Port Howard in the distance.

have been animals but one can’t be

through the air and going straight for a through the air and going straight for a

‘Back again in our cockpits we waited for our launch time. Launch up the ski-jump and back over the

came on and I detected fumes in the came on and I detected fumes in the cockpit.

‘Back again in our cockpits we came on and I detected fumes in the came on and I detected fumes in the



too careful in a situation like that. At that range, with my eyes streaming, I could not make out what they were so did the obvious thing and cleared off in the other direction. Much later that evening I found a deserted farmhouse. I knew the Argentines were looking for me as a Huey helicopter with a big searchlight came towards me that evening. He began hovering over one spot so think he must have found the Harrier’s remains. He moved away from there and came towards me.

Fortunately, at that very moment, the night attack on Goose Green started up and he moved off, not wanting to be caught in the open with all that ordnance flying around. I spent the following two days either in the heather or in the farmhouse at night. It was bitterly cold, and any form of shelter was welcome. I was

eventually picked up on 29 May by a Royal Marine flying an army Gazelle helicopter.’

A VERY UNLUCKY HIT

Sqn Ldr Jerry Pook, again from 1 Sqn, was brought down by small arms fire damaging his fuel lines in a freak lucky shot for Argentine troops on Mount Harriet on 30 May.

‘Our launch and departure were uneventful. About 4km short of the target things began to happen very fast. I could see the target area clearly (the saddle of Mount Harriet) and realised it was unoccupied - i.e. no helicopters were visible on the ground. At the same moment, we crossed a dirt road on which several military vehicles were stopped. Within a couple of seconds, I felt a significant thump in the airframe somewhere behind me. I knew I’d been

hit. Having seen no tracers or SAMs I assumed it was small-calibre stuff.

John Rochfort had seen the vehicles and observed the hit on me and transmitted straight away ‘Jerry, you’re leaking fuel!’ Barely two minutes had elapsed since I had been hit and I settled down to check a few things.

By now, one of my two hydraulic systems had failed and, as I pulled up into the climb, several unanswered calls to ‘JR’ demonstrated my radios had packed up. As I levelled out at about 30,000 ft I saw the fuel gauges dropping through 300lbs total.

I watched in horror as the fuel contents continued to drop symmetrically as if I was on full afterburner. Experience of previous leaks and simulator training had conditioned me to expect leaks from one side only.

that range, with my eyes streaming, I could not make out what they were so did the obvious thing and cleared off in the other direction. Much later that evening I found a deserted farmhouse. I knew the Argentines were looking I knew the Argentines were looking for me as a Huey helicopter with a big searchlight came towards me that evening. He began hovering over one spot so think he must have found the Harrier’s remains. He moved away from there and came towards me.

the night attack on Goose Green started up and he moved off, not wanting to be caught in the open with all that ordnance flying around. I spent the following two days either in the heather or in the farmhouse at night. It was bitterly cold, and any form of shelter was welcome. I was

TOP LEFT: Bob Iveson enjoys a beer on board HMS Hermes after his rescue.

TOP RIGHT: Pilots of 1 Squadron on board Atlantic Conveyor.

BELOW: The twin 35mm Oerlikon GDF gun which downed Bob Iveson. The GDF, combined with Skyguard radar, formed an effective defence.

eventually picked up on 29 May by a Royal Marine flying an army Gazelle helicopter.’

hit. Having seen no tracers or SAMs I assumed it was small-calibre stuff.

John Rochfort had seen the vehicles

eventually picked up on 29 May by a hit. Having seen no tracers or SAMs I too careful in a situation like that. At that range, with my eyes streaming, I too careful in a situation like that. At that range, with my eyes streaming, I

TOP LEFT: Bob Iveson

eventually picked up on 29 May by a Royal Marine flying an army Gazelle eventually picked up on 29 May by a too careful in a situation like that. At too careful in a situation like that. At eventually picked up on 29 May by a eventually picked up on 29 May by a



Afterwards, the engineers calculated I had received a very unlucky hit in the short length of feed pipe to the engine at the only point where the two separate halves of the system combine. As the fuel gauges ran down together, I could see I wasn’t going to make it back. From 30,000 feet, I could see the angry white tops of the waves and knew I would need some luck to survive.

WILD ROLLER-COASTER

RIDE

At 10,000 feet I pulled the handle. The ejection was extremely violent and I clearly remember my head being forced down between my knees by the 3,000lb thrust of the rocket seat. After this, the relief of hanging in the parachute harness was overwhelming.

The sea below was dotted with large cumulus cloud and there was no sign

of a ship in any direction. Suddenly, in the hostile stillness of the cloud, I heard the sweetest sound imaginable - the distinctive chop of rotor blades. Thank god for the Navy!

Below the cloud I still couldn’t see the helicopter and concentrated hard on the landing, immediately smashing into a large piece of South Atlantic which rose to meet me. Now, the panic really started. I was unable to release my parachute and straight away I was off, dragged by the strong wind on a wild roller coaster ride from wave to wave. Luckily, I was dragged on my back or I would have drowned very quickly.

However, try as I could, I was unable to get enough purchase to release my parachute with my rapidly freezing fingers. I couldn’t see what I was doing because of the bulk of my lifejacket and Browning pistol stowed underneath.

At last my chute collapsed, allowing

me to pull in my life-raft and inflate it but I was still unable to release the parachute harness. A Lynx helicopter was already overhead but I realised I had to get into the life-raft first in order to get rid of the parachute. With my remaining strength I hauled myself aboard, helped by the fact that the life-raft was travelling steeply downhill as I entered.

NO ROOM FOR ERROR

Temporarily safe in the wildly rocking raft, I sprawled face-down for several minutes not daring to move in case I fell out. I knew I would never be able to climb back in again. Eventually, I slowly turned over to see that the Lynx had been replaced by a Sea King which was dangling a single-lift strop in my general direction. I was going to have to do everything for myself. There was no room for error.


At last my chute collapsed, allowing no room for error. no room for error.

order to get rid of the parachute. With order to get rid of the parachute. With my remaining strength I hauled myself aboard, helped by the fact that the life-

Temporarily safe in the wildly rocking

slowly turned over to see that the Lynx had been replaced by a Sea King which

to do everything for myself. There was

ABOVE: Flt Lt Jerry Pook’s Harrier, XZ963, on board HMS Hermes.

BOTTOM LEFT: The starboard wing of Iveson’s XZ988.

BOTTOM MIDDLE: The port outrigger jockey wheel from Iveson’s shot down Harrier.

BOTTOM RIGHT: The tail section of Bob Iveson’s XZ988 at Goose Green.

cumulus cloud and there was no sign



Carefully, I finally removed my harness and began to untangle the myriad of parachute lines which were wrapped around me. I realised that if just one line was left attached the winch could severely injure me as it tried to separate me from my sunken parachute. Only when I was 100 % certain that I was completely untangled did I start to reach for the strop which had whistled past my ear a few times already.

This was going to be interesting; the strop alternately dangled in the water and then, in seconds, hung 15ft above it. I had no strength left for fancy gymnastics. It had to work first time. The next time the strop stabilised beside me for a brief period, I grabbed it and looped it over my shoulders.

Although my right arm was well in, I had only just got a purchase with an inch of my left elbow when the South Atlantic fell away beneath me. I clung on grimly and was winched aboard, just retaining the presence of mind to reach down and release my life-raft lanyard before it became taught. After collapsing on the cold metal floor of

the cabin, I felt safe at last. With my remaining strength, I grabbed the rather surprised observer in a joyful hug. I would have kissed him if our flying helmets had not got in the way!’

A TREMENDOUS FLASH

Flt Lt Ian Mortimer survived an incredible nine hours alone in a one-man dinghy in the South Atlantic after being shot out of the sky by a Roland SAM over Stanley on 1 June.

‘I was on Combat Air Patrol south of Stanley, trying to see if their Hercules transports were trying to get in. I was running up and down the road from the Darwin and Goose Green area. The plan was also to look out for Pucaras to see if I could take some

of them out. I had been up and down the road twice, a good way south and at a good height as well. On the third occasion, as I went by Stanley airfield, I thought I saw something taxying. Just at that moment a cloud got in the way so I dropped down to about 10,000 feet and moved in quite a bit, convinced that I was out of the way of their Roland missiles. I was wrong. The first thing I saw was a tremendous flash, just as though somebody had shone a huge mirror in my eyes. There was nothing for a couple of seconds.

Then I picked up the missile. It was on a perfect 90⁰intercept, with me flying one way and the missile coming on at 90⁰. I watched the smoke trail all the way, still convinced I was out

the cabin, I felt safe at last. With my of them out. I had been up and down

Next month Gordon Ramsey

takes a look at some of the Argentinian

aircraft losses during the Falklandsconflict.

harness and began to untangle the myriad of parachute lines which were wrapped around me. I realised that if just one line was left attached the winch could severely injure me as it tried to separate me from my sunken parachute. Only when I was 100 % certain that I was completely untangled did I start to reach for the strop which had whistled past my ear a few times already.

the strop alternately dangled in the water and then, in seconds, hung 15ft above it. I had no strength left for fancy gymnastics. It had to work first time. The next time the strop stabilised beside me for a brief period, I grabbed it and looped it over my shoulders.

I had only just got a purchase with an inch of my left elbow when the South Atlantic fell away beneath me. I clung on grimly and was winched aboard, just retaining the presence of mind to reach down and release my life-raft lanyard before it became taught. After collapsing on the cold metal floor of

NEAR RIGHT:A Roland CAROL AA system at Stanley. It was captured and studied in detail.

FAR RIGHT: Bob Iveson, Jeff Glover and Jerry Pook (L to R) celebrate on their return home from the Falklands.

BOTTOM:Ian Mortimer’s Harrier is the rear aircraft in the right hand row in this shot taken on board HMS Invincible.

Gordon Ramsey takes a look at some of the Argentinian

aircraft losses


takes a look at some


of range. Rather than try to defeat the missile by increasing speed, I turned away from it and tried to climb to increase range. At about 10,000ft the missile levelled off and I thought that was it. No problem.

I wasn’t in the least bit worried. I was looking out of my right-hand window as it disappeared underneath and transferred my gaze out of the left-hand window expecting to see the missile falling away into the water.

THE ADRENALIN

WAS FLOWING

There was an almighty explosion, the aircraft went head over heels and, being a bright lad, I guessed what had happened. It was a phenomenally violent explosion which really surprised me. It had taken the tailplane off and I ejected immediately. For a horrible second I thought the seat hadn’t worked and I was still in there. The next thing I know, I’m hanging onto the silk. The adrenalin was flowing, needless to say.

The ‘chute was going round in lovely little circles and I was spiralling down from 13,000ft at 25ft a second. Quite a long time in a parachute, but I was even enjoying it and it was

very peaceful. I drifted quite a few miles which did me a lot of favours because shortly after I hit the water the Argentinians came looking for me.

They had a Chinook searching the spot where I’d been hit, but the wind was about 20 to 25 knots and I’d gone a long way in six minutes. The helicopter was looking in the wrong place, but after half an hour they found me. Another helicopter flew right over the top, then broke away hard.

Then a Chinook pointed straight at me and got within 200yds before he turned and both beat it back to Stanley. I speculated there had been a radar contact and they wanted to get away

There were a couple of Sea Harriers airborne but they weren’t coming near, although the Argentinians didn’t know that. Fortunately, they didn’t find me again.

NINE HOURS IN

THE DINGHY

I was in the dinghy for about nine hours - three in daylight, six in darkness. It was freezing and I was never able to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. Helicopters from 820 NAS had been looking for me from the moment it got dark.

They were from HMS Invincible, so were good friends of mine. I still had my helmet on and every time I thought I heard something, I had to clear the dinghy canopy out of the way and try to pull my helmet away so as to be able to listen. The last time I thought I heard something, sure enough, there was a helicopter. They had seen me before I heard them. They had gone by, seen a shape in the water and were coming back for another look when I pitched up on the radio beacon. It worked, and I got a reply. I don’t know what on earth they said and wasn’t too fussed by that stage. They put a strobe light on and homed in on me. It took about two minutes and then a grinning Irishman called Mark Finucane came down the wire. I don’t know who was grinning most, him or me.’

Despite the attrition rate of Task Force Harriers the whole success of Operation Corporate depended upon air superiority over a well-equipped and well-trained air force and against modern ground-to-air defence systems. Achieving that objective had come at a price.

of range. Rather than try to defeat the very peaceful. I drifted quite a few


worked, and I got a reply. I don’t know

about two minutes and then a grinning

ABOVE LEFT: Bob Iveson (right) and Jerry Pook following Iveson’s first Harrier check-flight in August 1982 , carried out by Pook, after returning from the Falklands conflict.

TOP RIGHT: Ian Mortimer (centre) and the Sea King crew who rescued him pictured back on board HMS Invincible.

They were from HMS Invincible, so were good friends of mine. I still had my helmet on and every time I thought my helmet on and every time I thought

ABOVE LEFT: Bob Iveson (right) and

They were from HMS Invincible, so ABOVE


GALTIERI: MY PART IN HIS DOWNFALL!Falkands Harrier Pilot

GALTIERIGALTIERIW

HEN ARGENTINA

invaded the Falklands

in 1982, the RN’s Sea

Harrier force was still building up

to full strength. Some RN pilots

had flown RAF Harriers, and

a couple of RAF Harrier pilots

were posted to RN exchange

posts. David Morgan was one

of the exchange pilots, but an

unusual one in that he had begun

his flying career as an RN officer

before transferring to the RAF.

After his exchange tour, he

transferred back to the dark blue.

In addition to the established Sea

Harrier exchange officers, more

RAF Harrier pilots undertook a

rapid conversion, so that the war

was fought by 29 RN and 7 RAF

Sea Harrier pilots. Sea Harriers

accounted for 21 Argentine

aircraft without sustaining any

air combat losses.



The only front line combat air-assets possessed by the South Atlantic Task Force during the 1982 conflict were the Harrier aircraft of the Fleet Air Arm and Royal Air Force. One of the first Harrier pilots into action was David Morgan who was awarded the Distin-guished Service Cross for his part in the con-flict. Here, he shares one of the dramatic high-lights of his short but outstanding war.

GALTIERIThe only front line combat air-assets possessed by the South Atlantic Task Force during the 1982 conflict were the Harrier aircraft of the Fleet Air Arm and Royal Air Force. One of the first Harrier pilots into action was David Morgan

guished Service Cross for his part in the con-flict. Here, he shares one of the dramatic high-lights of his short but outstanding war.

MAIN PICTURE: RAF Harrier GR3s about to launch from HMS Hermes with a mix of RAF and RN Harriers parked and waiting the next operation.

BOTTOM RIGHT: Dave Morgan earned a DSC during the Falklands conflict and was the highest scoring pilot of operations in the South Atlantic and finished his career as a Lt Cdr.

MY PART IN HIS DOWNFALL!




ASSAULT ON

STANLEY AIRFIELD

In April 1982, I was just one third of the way through my Sea Harrier conversion course as an RAF exchange pilot at RNAS Yeovilton. I was no stranger to Vertical/Short Take-Off and Landing flying, having just spent three years serving as a Harrier pilot on 3 (F) Squadron in Germany but very much a new boy when it came to air defence. It was all a bit of a surprise, then, to find myself on the deck of HMS Hermes as dawn broke on 1 May, about to carry out my first operational mission against the Argentine enemy.

As I settled into the cockpit, I mentally ran through my part in the plan. It was essential that everyone carried out his individual role as perfectly as possible to preserve the integrity of the attack. I was partly responsible for planning the first assault on Stanley airfield and was aware that the odds were very much against us all returning safely. I double-checked all the weapons and head-up display aiming data, adding two marks on the sight glass just in case I suffered a display failure. These marks both coincided with the weapon aiming point; one seen from my normal sitting

position and a further one seen from a position crouching down behind the gunsight camera, where I suspected I might be during the final stages of the attack.

SLAMMED THE

THROTTLE OPEN

At 1040Z (0640 local time) the order came booming over the

flight deck broadcast system: ‘Stand clear of jet pipes and intakes. Start the Sea Harriers’. After a few minutes the flashing anti-collision lights showed that all twelve fighters were ready to go. There was time for a quick glance at the en route map before Hermes turned into the prevailing westerly wind and the chocks and chain lashings were removed leaving the aircraft ready for take-off. I inserted the ship’s heading into the nav kit, re-checked: flaps down, armament master switch live, nozzle stop set at 35 degrees, trim 3 degrees nose down and ejection seat live. Exactly on time, the flight deck officer dropped his green flag to launch Lieutenant Commander Andy Auld, ahead of me. My machine was buffeted violently by Andy’s jet efflux and as the grey bulk of his aeroplane threw itself off the end of the ski-jump. I taxied forward to the take-off point and slammed the throttle open. Within two seconds the jet was accelerating at a terrific rate towards the ramp, driven by the ten tons of engine thrust. As the end of the deck disappeared below me, I rotated the nozzles and leapt into the air some 70 knots below conventional stalling speed, accelerating rapidly to forward flight.

LIKE A FIREWORK

DISPLAY

The initial transit towards the islands went without incident and we soon settled down into a flexible transit formation, with everyone scouring the rapidly lightening sky for enemy aircraft. After 12 minutes, we made our planned landfall at Macbride Head, the most north-easterly point of East Falkland. My first impression was of its similarity to the Scottish coast, which made it quite difficult to believe that we were not on one of our more familiar routine exercises, rather than bent upon a real errand of destruction.

By the time we reached Berkeley Sound, with only 90 seconds to run to the airfield, we had split into three sections. Four aircraft were pulling up off Volunteer Point to toss 1,000lb bombs onto the anti-aircraft defences from three miles out and three others were setting themselves up to approach from the north-west whilst Andy Auld and myself headed for the east side of the pair of 900-foot high mountains to the north of Stanley. As I rounded the face of Mount Low, tucked behind and slightly to the left of my leader, the target came into view. The airfield and the entire peninsular on which it was built seemed to be alive with explosions. Anti-aircraft shells carpeted the sky over the runway up to a height of 1,000 feet and missiles, fired from the airfield and outside the town, streaked across my path, chasing the previous attackers out to the south-east. Tracer fire criss-crossed the sky and as I watched, a number of guns turned in my direction. The tracer curved lazily down, rather like a firework display

Falkands Harrier Pilot

ASSAULT ON

STANLEY AIRFIELD

position and a further one seen position and a further one seen from a position crouching down from a position crouching down from a position crouching down from a position crouching down behind the gunsight camera, behind the gunsight camera, where I suspected I might be where I suspected I might be during the final stages of the during the final stages of the attack.attack.

SLAMMED THE SLAMMED THE

THROTTLE OPEN

At 1040Z (0640 local time) the

flight deck broadcast system: ‘Stand clear of jet pipes and intakes. Start the Sea Harriers’. After a few minutes the

GALTIERI: MY PART IN HIS DOWNFALL!

LIKE A FIREWORK

TOP LEFT: Conditions in the South Atlantic were often atrocious, as this image of a wind and spray-swept deck of HMS Hermes with parked Sea Harriers, Harrier GR3s and Sea Kings illustrates.

TOP RIGHT: A Sea Harrier and Harrier GR3 over-fly HMS Hermes.



and not initially conveying much feeling of imminent danger. As it got closer, however, it suddenly seemed to accelerate and began whipping past my ears, bouncing off the grey sea all around me.

LOLLING AT DRUNKEN

ANGLES

I hauled the aeroplane hard left and then right, to pass between the Tussock Islands and Kelly Rocks, themselves only 30ft high, and pressed on towards the airfield below the level of the sand dunes, accelerating to 480 knots. Inspection of the gunsight film later in the day, showed that we were flying at a height of somewhere between 5 to 15ft as we approached the target. I became aware that a number

of Argentine soldiers were firing down at me from the sand dunes, their bullets kicking up the

water all around me. I dropped the trigger on the front of the stick and squeezed it hard but the guns would not fire. I thought that they must have jammed but realised later that in the heat of the moment I had failed to select the gun master switches on. As I crossed over the beach, I yanked back on the stick and levelled at 150ft, the minimum height required for my cluster bombs to fuse properly. I instantly took in the damage caused by the rest of the formation, the airport buildings were billowing smoke and a number of aircraft on the ground were lolling at drunken angles, obviously badly damaged. The fuel dump to my right was a storm of orange flame, under a gathering pall of oily black smoke and huge lumps of debris were

still falling from the sky from the explosions of the 1,000lb bombs. One aircraft, which seemed undamaged, was a small Britten-Norman Islander transport. I quickly lined up my bombsight, raised the safety catch and despatched my three cluster bombs.

DAMAGE TO THE TAIL

Suddenly there was a huge explosion and my aircraft started vibrating like mad. It was impossible to read any of the cockpit instruments but the aircraft still seemed to be flying, so as soon as the last bomb had cleared the wing pylon, I dived my machine for the smoke beside the control tower. I still have a very clear recollection of passing below the level of the tower windows as I entered the cloud of thick black smoke. (When I returned to the airfield after the war was over, I discovered that the tower windows were only about 15ft above the ground.) I waited a short pause inside the smoke, then pulled the aircraft into a hard turn to the east.

closer, however, it suddenly seemed closer, however, it suddenly seemed to accelerate and began whipping past to accelerate and began whipping past my ears, bouncing off the grey sea all my ears, bouncing off the grey sea all

and not initially conveying much feeling of imminent danger. As it got

of Argentine soldiers were firing down at me from the sand dunes, their bullets kicking up the

water all around me. I dropped the trigger on the front of the stick and

and not initially conveying much and not initially conveying much feeling of imminent danger. As it got feeling of imminent danger. As it got and not initially conveying much water all around me. I dropped the and not initially conveying much and not initially conveying much

TOP LEFT: Sea Harrier armed with 1,000lb bombs ready for ground attack operations.

BELOW: Sea Harrier ready to launch from HMS Hermes.



As I punched out of the smoke, I was locked up by a radar-laid anti-aircraft gun. I racked the aircraft into a break to the left through 90 degrees and flicked out the airbrake to release a bundle of chaff into the airflow. Despite the Heath Robinson design, the chaff did its job; the radar lost lock and I was able to haul the vibrating aircraft back onto an easterly heading and run out to sea and safety. As we cleared the target area, we changed radio frequency and

checked in. I believed that we would probably lose two or three aircraft on this raid because of the intensity of the ground defences. I was hugely elated, therefore, when everyone came up on the radio. Once safely clear of land, I slowed down and climbed gently up to 10,000ft. As I reduced speed, the vibration began to reduce to acceptable levels and I was able to check out the aircraft systems. I was amazed to find that everything appeared to be working correctly except the rudder trim gauge. This in itself was of no consequence to the operation of the aeroplane but gave me the first indication that damage had been done to the tail of the aircraft.

CONSIDERABLE DAMAGE

Once back in the overhead of Hermes, Flight Lieutenant Ted Ball came up alongside me to inspect the damage and after a few seconds said: ‘Ah yes... you have got a bloody great hole in the tail’. The control surfaces appeared to be working correctly but there was a distinct possibility that the reaction controls might have taken some damage. I therefore decided to carry out a rolling vertical landing. This entails running the aircraft onto the deck with a certain amount of forward speed and is not an approved manoeuvre as there is a distinct danger of running over the side into

the sea. It does, however, reduce the reliance on the reaction controls and might have given me the option to overshoot and try again if the controls had jammed. After a pretty hairy but successful landing, I discovered that the hole was about six inches across and had obviously been caused by a 20-millimetre shell, which had entered the left side of the fin and exploded, causing considerable damage to the right-hand side of the fin and tailplane.

I COUNTED THEM ALL

BACK

That evening Brian Hanrahan, the BBC’s reporter on the spot, sent his report of the raid with the phrase which later became famous: ‘I cannot say how many aircraft took part in the raid, but I counted them all out and I counted them all back’. We had had our baptism of fire and achieved considerable success, without loss – a good start to the conflict.

Over the next six weeks I flew a further 54 operational sorties and was jointly responsible for the sinking of an Argentine spy ship and the destruction of three Argentine helicopters. My final action took place on the evening of 8 June 1982 and made me the last British pilot to shoot down an enemy aircraft in air combat.

For a more comprehensive look at Harrier operations in the Falklands Conflict see Bob Marston’s ‘Harrier Boys’. Published by Grub Street, ISBN 978-1-909808-29-4, and with a cover price £20.00, this is being offered, including P&P, to Britain at War readers for £16.00. This may be ordered via www.grubstreet.co.uk, quoting code HB15, or by calling 02079 243966 and quoting the HB15 code. (Note: The £16.00 including P&P offer applies only to the UK. Overseas customers will need to add £7.50 for shipping)

READER OFFER!

Published by Grub Street, ISBN 978-1-909808-29-4, and with

£16.00 including P&P offer applies only to the UK. Overseas

As I punched out of the smoke, I was locked up by a radar-laid anti-aircraft gun. I racked the aircraft

levels and I was able to check out the aircraft systems. I was amazed to find that everything appeared to be working correctly except the rudder trim gauge. This in itself was of no consequence to the operation of the aeroplane but gave me the first indication that damage had been done to the tail of the aircraft.

CONSIDERABLE DAMAGE

Once back in the overhead of Flight Lieutenant Ted Ball came up alongside me to inspect the damage and after a few seconds said: ‘Ah yes... you have got a bloody great

checked in. I believed that we would probably lose two or three aircraft on this raid because of the intensity of the ground defences. I was hugely elated, therefore, when everyone came up on the radio. Once safely clear of land, I slowed down and climbed gently up to 10,000ft. As I reduced speed, the vibration began to reduce to acceptable levels and I was able to check out the

probably lose two or three aircraft on this raid because of the intensity of the ground defences. I was hugely elated, therefore, when everyone came up on the radio. Once safely clear of land, I slowed down and climbed gently up to 10,000ft. As I reduced speed, the vibration began to reduce to acceptable levels and I was able to check out the aircraft systems. I was amazed to find that everything appeared to be working correctly except the rudder trim gauge. This in itself was of no consequence to the operation of the aeroplane but gave me the first indication that damage had been done to the tail of the aircraft.

CONSIDERABLE DAMAGE

Once back in the overhead of Flight Lieutenant Ted Ball came up alongside me to inspect the damage

TOP LEFT: Harriers operating from Stanley airfield after the fighting with wrecked Pucaras in the background.

BELOW:Dave Morgan’s cockpit ‘selfie’, at low-level and with his Number 2 tucked in close behind.

harrier falklands 1982

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