If you have any dits, bits and pieces or fond memories of your time onboard then this is the place to post them. Just drop me a line and I will get them posted for all to see.
Do you have memories of the Falklands, both during the conflict and the deployment post conflict? Do you have stories to tell from any run
ashore during your time onboard? What about the runs ashore during the West Indies Deployment in 1983, Key West, Bermuda, Punta Del Gada, Ochis Rios in Jamaica, Tampico in Mexico, Baltimore, and Grand Cayman, Bahamas etc someone must remember this deployment or any others from the ships illustrious past.
Any way as they say its " time to dit on" with a couple of personal memories of mine from the good ship Yarmouth.
WHERE DID YOU PUT THEM BUNGS!!!
As the ship lay at anchor in Stanley Harbour during the Falklands Deployment of 1983, I decided to crack on with my task books as quickly as possible and took every opportunity to get the tasks singed off. Anyway that night there was a RPC in the wardroom for some Army Officers who were billeted ashore in Stanley. I asked the Buffer (Mac cant remember his name only remember he was a Hearts supporter from Edinburgh and liked his wets) if I could do the Bowman bit for my task books.
"Aye son away yea go then make sure the boats ready for gon ashore to pick that army lot up"
As a keen young lad I set off and made all the checks I had been briefed and at the allotted hour, dark and miserable as I remember, LS "Brad" Bradley and myself were duly lowered into the oggin to make the half-mile trip to the jetty to pick up the party.
Now ploughing into a strong wind and spray, it was bloody freezing; I thought there's nothing to this. When I glanced down to see a disturbingly large amount of water working the duckboards free, as we bounced up and down towards the waiting Officers on the jetty the situation appeared to be getting worse. Bringing this fact to the attention of the coxswain he casually replied,
" Don't worry you always get some water retention in the motor whaler"
Halfway to our destination Brad, probably on reflection due to the fact that we seemed to be getting lower in the water all the time and the oggin was splashing around our steaming bats!!!! Enquired,
"Where did you put them bungs?"
Bungs!!!!! Oh shit!!!!!! dohhhhhhhhh!!!! Well I was only a junior and supposed to do stupid things like forgetting to put the bungs in the boat before leaving the safety of the falls. Well after a tirade of expletives and with steam coming out of his ears and no doubt thoughts of his impending visit to the skippers table for reversion, he quick as flash threw the hard hat at me and shouted,
"Right ya little F*&$£R get yer arse into gear and start bailing it out"
As we approached the jetty we got some odd looks from the assembled Pongo officers, all dressed in their best bib and tucker, as they glanced down in horror at the sweating junior busily bailing the boat out, and the coxswain with a sheepish grin on his face reassuring them that it was a perfectly sea worthy vessel.
So on they got very gingerly, keeping well clear of the sweating lunatic in the bow bailing for his life, so as to not mess up their uniforms. All was going well, or so we thought, until half way back to the ship when it was quite obvious that the added weight, 10 extra bodies, was causing the influx of water to increase rapidly and no matter how much I tried we were not going to make it unless they all got off their arses and lent a hand. So it was all hands to the pumps and ten hard hats were issued to the newly drafted bailing party.
Well we got back to the ship, thankfully, but with the mixture of sea water and diesel from the bilge of the sea boat being thrown all over the place, the dapper army officers looked more like survivors from a WWII torpedoed merchant vessel as we came alongside the Quarterdeck to be met by the OOD and unhappy looking Jimmy.
Suffice to say I didn't get the task singed by the buffer for that one, and it wasn't to be the last experience I had in that motor whaler.
One of the offending Rattan Fenders that was to cause Mac the Buffer dear!!!!!!!!
Our ship had been involved with supporting the San Carlos landings and we had experienced many close calls with air attacks from that day. Each ship has a contingent of Royal Marines and our Colour Sergeant had recommended we man the upper deck with lots of light machine guns loaded with 1 in 1 tracer as a visual deterrent to incoming aircraft. This proved very effective as our later days in San Carlos Water showed. Despite being under attack on numerous occasions, the site of streams of tracer emanating from our decks visibly dissuaded low level air raids, and many other ships that had not taken the same deterrent action were bombed or sunk. To support the guys at the gun posts it was decided to fill sandbags to use as protection around the Bridge emplacements and these were to be filled on shore at the area of the Field Hospital and main Arms dump.
A small boat party
was sent ashore and included a member of the ships flight to act as loadmaster.
The first load was under slung and taken back to the ship without incident.
After a further 20-30 minutes we returned for a further load. It was
whilst we were in the hover with the load attached that "Air Raid Warning
Red" came over the radio. This was immediately followed by a series
of explosions on the far side of the Bay. Instead of jettisoning the load
of sandbags we gently lowered it to the ground and dropped the load strop.
Several more explosions occurred around us and we saw aircraft departing at low
level above where we were hovering. It was at this point that I looked
toward the Hospital and saw an A4 Skyhawk on an incoming bombing run.
Immediately I thought of my shipmates who had dispersed on the ground to find
cover and that this aircraft had an unopposed attack on the Hospital and Ammo
dump. I could see the pilot looking at me and he was firing his cannon to
knock us out of the sky. I can't say why - but I decided the guys on the
ground had to have support and ordered my pilot to climb in height Our rate of
climb was clearly interfering with the A4's escape route and what is more, his
angle of attack. In order to drop his bomb load he needed to maintain a
shallow approach, we were forcing him to climb. In what seemed like an age
but could have been no more that 3 or 4 seconds he was almost on top of us.
I shouted for my pilot to reduce height and the Skyhawk passed overhead at
around 10 feet whilst his bomb and retard parachute passed below at 6 or 7 feet.
We found a ravine
and landed. I check whether we had been hit, fortunately not but we were
choked-up from the massive adrenaline rush we'd just experienced, the knowledge
that we had deliberately tried to cause an impact with a 300 mile per hour jet
aircraft and that our colleagues might be injured or worse amongst the
explosions on ground. When the 'All Clear' came over the radio we returned
to the cargo net full of sandbags and I jumped out to hook the load on. As
I reconnected my intercom the pilot said that he'd noticed one of the retard
parachutes about 100 yards away and that it would make a good souvenir. I ran
over to where the parachute lay, only to discover a 500lb bomb was still
attached and buried in the mud! I left it there.
We returned the sandbag load to the ship then went to locate the shore party who
were all thankfully OK. All 6 piled into the Wasp which is designed to
carry 3 passengers! On landing back at the ship an intercom broadcast from
the captain asked if everyone was OK and then enquired as to the whereabouts of
the ships boat. Trying to persuade the shore party to go back was a struggle.
Ammunition from the arms dump was still exploding and upon departing the jetty,
half an outbuilding landed very close to where the boat had been tied up.
Later in the mess the boat party recounted what had happened to them during the
air raid. They had jumped into the first trench that they came across and
waited until they had seen the Wasp return for them. A soldier had also
jumped into the trench, but after a minute or two exclaimed ''I rather be shot
than stay in this shit hole...'' Because that is exactly where the guys
had sought shelter!
That incident is the one that I recall as being a positive input on my behalf.
The decision to sacrifice myself to protect others, the feeling of inevitability
and complete calm during those few seconds. Looking
into the eyes of the Argentinean pilot who upon realizing our game plan had
stopped firing his canon and wasted his bombing opportunity. If I helped
save lives then it was worth it.
Joe D'Souza
Leading Aircrewman
HMS Yarmouth
This was an article Joe had published in the book, Memories of the Falklands (Ian Dale - politico press), which can be purchased here http://www.politicos.co.uk/ with all royalties going to the British Forces Foundation.
On the way back from the victorious Falklands War in 1982, Her Majesty The Queen ordered Splice the Main Brace in recognition of the superhuman efforts undertaken by her sailors. Onboard the Crazy Y the rum was duly broken out and the Ships Company mustered by messdecks to receive their issue. The lads of 3P mess, normally as hardened a bunch of matelots as you could ever care to meet!, quickly realised that a tot of neaters would be the end of them at that time, particularly after spending a ball braking three months in defence watches. So many of them declined, sacrilege I know! but understandable in the situation.
However, amongst these warriors was three badge Able Seaman (Sonar) Lester Piggott, a wily old skate who was about 100 years old at the time (well he seemed that old to me). He had cunningly made a few deals to get the decliners tots. So in traditional naval fashion they presented themselves in front of the Captain in an orderly queue, saluted when it was their turn to receive the issue and wandered back to where Lester was to pass the grog for his consumption, out of site of the Jossman. With approximately 52 men in 3P mess, many of whom had done the deal with Lester, by the time AB Piggott presented himself to the Captain for his tot he was seven sheets to the wind!. Typical old salt that he was, he pulled himself up to his impressive 5ft squat and chopped the old man off one perfectly, downed the neaters and planted the glass firmly back on the table, smart as a guardsman about turned marched off approximately 10 paces and collapsed into a snotty heap on the floor!!!!!!!!!! Totally pissed as a fart.
Submitted by Andy Ross ex LS (R)
Shortly after joining 3P mess, I was duty alongside somewhere in the UK. Detailed off as mess chefs for rounds I was told to go and clean the gulches. On entering this forbidden place for the first time, after hearing many horror stories from the older juniors, I was pleased to see that the lads all appeared to be ashore and I would get a clean sweep at the place. So pulling back the curtains I proceeded to start sweeping the deck in that dark dank foul smelling place.
About half way down the gulch I heard a pssssssssst, psssssst sound and glanced up towards the direction of the sound. Meeting my gaze was a man sat crossed legged, Gandy style, on the top bunk, dressed from head to toe in black. Black Harrington jacket, black t-shirt, black jeans, black socks and black dock martin shoes! He was sat there in this strange pose listening to a personal hi-fi, and unbeknown to me must have been watching my every move like a bird of prey.
Carefully releasing his ear from the headset, he cautiously glanced both left and right up and down the gulch, before beckoning me closer to him with a crooked finger and in a John Laurie (Dads Army Jock) accent said to me,
"Beware ooh the man, who, when alone in the kitchen, doesn't try the tea cosey on for size"
He then totally freaked me out by casually replacing his headset back on his ear and regained his trance like state, after I had picked my jaw up from the deck I cleaned that gulch in record time. That was my first, but not my last, worldly word of advise from "The man in black" Charlie Haffy.
Charlie was a cracking lad from Methil in Fife, he left the Navy and worked in off shore support vessel. He was awarded a gallantry medal, I think the George Cross, for his involvement in the Piper Alpha disaster of 1988.